


Crab Rangoon

by Viscount_Vampyre



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anti-Hero, Easter Eggs, Emotional, Gen, Tongue-in-cheek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-09-28 17:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17187521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscount_Vampyre/pseuds/Viscount_Vampyre
Summary: Being left with no other choice Ajay stays at the table and waits for Pagan's return. After all, he did say he cleared his calendar for him. Time to join with the villains and tear shit up!





	1. Crab Rangoon

"Don't move. I will be right back."

Ajay’s main host brought his phone upwards and he could hear the audible ‘click’ as he unlocked the device.

Quickly walking towards a nearby door Pagan took hold of the large door handle and brought the phone to his ear.

Before exiting the room Pagan declared in a serious tone; "Yuma, we need to talk."

After the terrifying pink suited man left the room the door locked closed with a loud thump. Now that he was finally alone Ajay allowed himself to let out a bottled up exclamation: "Holy shit…"

The simple two word observation did little to address any of the things that he had recently witnessed:

The soldiers shooting his bus… The bag placed that was covering his head for hours… Or the fact that he watched a man get a fucking fork through his hand, right in front of him!

This ‘holy shit’ was a woeful understatement for the situation. And if Ajay had of been able to think clearly his inner monologue probably would have agreed.

At the moment though Ajay really couldn’t devote any spare time to thinking…

All he knew was that he had to get the fuck out of this mad house.

Hesitantly he leant forwards from his chair and reached for his mother’s urn. He looked to either side, anxiously expecting the sudden return of either of his hosts… Or even one of the soldiers he saw earlier in the morning.

When his fingers made contact with the heavy urn nothing happened.

He waited a second, and still there was nothing.

‘Woo… okay… let’s go.’ He thought.

Taking hold of his mother's urn he sat up from his chair and left the grotesque table.

‘Now I’ve got to get a way out of here…’ he mumbled to himself.

His eyes searched the room, from wall to wall to wall.

There didn’t seem to be any options for him.

There was the door that Pagan had gone through, ‘but’ Ajay thought, ‘I literally heard him lock it…’

Then there was, ‘Ha!’ Ajay thought.

He looked past the table towards the beautiful view in front of him.

‘What about over the railing?’

Spurred on by the possibility of his hosts returning Ajay darted over to the wooden railing and quickly felt the cool wind pour over the skin of his face.

The view really was… stunning…

The fresh smell of the trees mixed with the wet smell of thawed ground and struck Ajay…

It was… familiar?

He shook his head before the panoramic view left him completely awestruck. ‘I’ve got to get out of here first! Then I can admire the scenery.’

He took hold of the wooden railing and tentatively peered over the side.

'I could jump... no.’ he grumbled in frustration. ‘No way… The fall would kill me!’

A second thought spoke up in his mind as he considered just making the leap anyway. ‘Okay maybe it wouldn’t kill me… Oh come on Ajay! I’d break my leg, or an ankle or something… then I’d never get out of here'

Stepping away from the edge Ajay rubbed the back of his head and neck with his hand. Though it was cool and springtime in the mountains, he was sweating.

If it was because he was over heating or he was so stressed out he couldn’t tell. The only thing he did know was that it wasn’t looking too good for him right now…

Now he started to feel panic begin to well up in his chest, past the point he could keep it together.

'Okay… Okay… oh fuck, fuck, fuck!'

Ajay turned around from the railing and started looking all around the room. His eyes darted from object to object, from wall to wall again. Until his mind threw out: 'Okay downstairs!'

He nodded and began walking towards the stairs.

Passing the doors that Pagan walked through Ajay could hear muffled talking.

For a second Ajay considered waiting by the door to listen to whatever he was saying. But he shuddered, and the idea passed as quickly as it came.

Minding the sound of his boots on the wood floor Ajay quietly moved as fast as he could, he took the first few steps down the stairwell and looked behind, making sure Pagan wasn’t about to appear through the doors.

Ajay chuckled to himself and sped up as he continued down the stairs.

When he reaching the end of the landing he made his way to the first door he saw. Grabbing the ornate latch he tugged upwards, no movement. Downwards; nothing either. It was locked…

“Shit!” He quietly exclaimed.

Looking to his side Ajay was about to grab another door handle when a horrible scream made its way from somewhere deeper in the basement.

He stopped motionless for a moment, and he whispered to himself, "That was Darpan wasn't it?”

After a few seconds his curiosity overrode his caution and Ajay inched his way towards the direction of the scream. He couldn't help but flinch as another wailing cry echoed through the building.

When he got as close as he dared, a shaking Ajay peered arounds the corner into the quaint hallway. All along the floor there were several drag marks worn into the wood.

Mud and dirt was caked into the worn grooves.

‘…must have been left there by Darpan's boots.’ He thought, then his inner voice made a declaration; 'I am not fucking going that way...'

‘I’ll find another way, anything else but down there!’

Turning around Ajay began running to each door in the main hall. The desire to escape overrode his desire to remain quiet.

He stomped from door to door, none would open, “Come on!” he whispered. Smacking the thick wood of the third locked door his breath began to increase in pace as his thoughts raced.

'Fuck it...'

Reluctantly Ajay walked back to the stairs.

He really did not want to make the climb back to the second floor, but what else could he do?

Quietly coming to the top of the stairs Ajay did his best to keep his breathing quiet. The thin mountain air was certainly not helping his state of mild panic.

Coming to the top of the stairs he passed the door Pagan had gone through.

Holding his breath he leaned against the wood and stopped to listen for a few seconds. Even though it was muffled he was able to make out a few words here and there:

"Yes… yes, no I know... he’s here now.” In addition to Pagan’s voice he could tell that the man was pacing back and forth in the next room.

“Just a few... No, no, you don't need to do that. Excellent! Oh and Yuma? We're back in business hon. Oh yes I'm sure, quite sure.”

He paused and laughed, before finishing, “Alright now, ta-ta! Talk soon dearie."

The call ended and Pagan chuckled to himself before he started walking towards the door. Ajay’s eyes shot open as the muffled steps got louder and clearer.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he whispered. Stepping away from the door Ajay’s eyes once again darted around the room. He looked for anything that might give him a thought.

Then his eyes came to rest on his chair and the table… "Oh goddamn it."

He tried speed-walking as quietly as possible, intent to be able to sit down before Pagan came through the doors.

Behind him the door’s lock unclicked and just as Ajay's ass landed in his chair, Pagan pushed open the door.

The whole time Ajay's heart was beating at what felt like a million miles an hour. From the panic of the whole situation Ajay felt like his stomach was about to give at any time.

Despite how he was feeling inside, he did his best to be as plain-faced as possible.

"Oh, fan-bloody-tastic!” Pagan announced, “You sir, are a gentleman. I sincerely apologise. We saw terrorists in the area, and yada, yada…"

Pagan put his phone back into his jacket pocket and then looked back at Ajay.

"The Crab Rangoon, Right? It's..."

A long horrible scream resonated throughout the building and Pagan looked down in exacerbation before finishing.

"Fabulous!"

He gave an emphatic culinary "Mm!" before smiling and leaning away from the wall, "Well, come on let's go!"

Ajay stood up slowly, trying not to trip over his own legs. He hesitated before eventually croaking out a sentence to Pagan.

"W-where are we going?"

Pagan lightly hit Ajay's shoulder before answering.

"Lakshmana of course, now come on! We'll travel in style, much better than that bus you came in on.”

He changed tone and immediately became apologetic, “Speaking of which, I am still very, very, sorry for that… screw up."

Without thinking Ajay spoke: "Why?”

Immediately his thoughts screamed, ‘you idiot! Shut up!’

Trying to soften the blow of his abrupt and odd sounding voice he continued, “If…y-you don't mind me asking, I mean..."

Pagan seemed unfazed by both Ajay’s flustered voice and his poor attempt to salvage the moment. Pagan also seemed to have decided to completely ignore the fact that Ajay was still terrified of him.

"Why?” Pagan repeated. Then his voice took on a jovial tone, “Oh Ajay my dear boy!"

He allowed a slight laugh to accompany an audible exhale. "I just couldn't bear the idea of losing you again. That's why... I had to punish the man who failed me"

The emphasis that Pagan subconsciously placed on ‘failed’ unnerved Ajay, but he couldn’t help but be surprised more by the rest of what his host had said.

Before Ajay had the chance to summon enough courage to ask more questions Pagan’s voice continued.

"Anyway, follow me, out this way, to the chopper." Re-buttoning his jacket Pagan opened the door he had previously come through and held it open while waving Ajay in ahead of him.

"Go on, I'll be right behind you."

Walking through a large study Ajay looked over the hundreds of books and scrolls on display and on shelves throughout the room and his pace slowed involuntarily. He didn’t even notice that he spoke under his breath;

“Woah…”

Pagan smirked and let out a small chuckle, "Come on Ajay, this isn't the time to be dilly-dallying. Now look, it's just through there."

Pointing over Ajay's shoulder Pagan directed him towards a pair of large double doors.

Before Ajay could open them he flinched as Pagan loudly chimed up, "The doors sometimes stick! So, be sure to give it a good slight shove.”

He rolled his eyes petulantly in an effort to soften the air between the two men.

“It's an inconvenience I know but it's the bloody mountain air on the old wood, makes everything fit differently."

Ajay complied with Pagan’s words and pulled up his arm while bracing his shoulder against the door. When he felt comfortable he gave it a hefty push.

The old wood creaked and rattled as it swung open and bright sunlight quickly sank into Ajay's eyes causing him to squeeze them shut and cringe in surprise "Ah!"

Covering his brow with his hand Pagan started to comment, "Oh yes it is quite bright.”

He laughed, “I haven't the slightest idea why ‘De Pleur’ enjoys keeping his home so dark, but to each his own I suppose.”

As his eyes adjusted to the bright light Ajay looked forward towards the large helicopter about ten metres away.

Its engines started slowly revving up, and then one of the doors of the helicopter opened.

The pilot jumped down from the cockpit and roadie-ran towards Ajay and Pagan.

"Your Majesty," The man had to yell as the rotors and engine grew in loudness. Pagan nodded in affirmation and saluted.

Turning towards Ajay the pilot announced in slightly accented English; "Stay low as you proceed to the helicopter or you’ll lose your head!"

Ajay nodded before looking to Pagan, his wide and scared eyes betrayed him. But Pagan wasn’t about to leave Ajay hanging in the wind.

Leaning closely to Ajay Pagan shouted in a strangely reassuring tone: "Kamran always flies well Ajay! So take that scared look off your face, ha, ha!"

Staying low Pagan and Ajay followed behind the pilot Kamran as he approached the belly of the helicopter and opened the large bay door for his two passengers.

After entering first Pagan sat down, giddy with excitement.

"Come on Ajay!” He shouted as he pointed to the seat beside him.

“Relax, sit down, and just enjoy the ride!”

“It's a quick one, just over these mountains. We’re not going to be that far from my palace actually!"

Sitting down Ajay quickly clipped into the seat and looked towards Pagan.

He must have looked pale as a ghost because Pagan leaned forward earnestly

"Are you okay?" He asked. There was a slight amount of concern on his otherwise bright face.

Ajay nervously nodded and Pagan then signalled to the pilot.

The helicopter began to take off and Ajay felt his stomach turn as he was launched back into his seat. Pagan looked over and gave a slight laugh.

"You'll get used to it Ajay! I actually find it quite boring now. This isn’t going to be that long a flight so I doubt you'll be throwing up any time soon!"

Ajay nodded uneasily before looking out the window.

Despite Pagan's assurances he still felt a strong wave of nausea. It was the powerful combination of his anxiety and the motion of the chopper.

Before Ajay could get too distracted by his thoughts though, Pagan leaned over and lightly nudged his shoulder.

"The view's better without a bag on your head isn't it? Ha-ha!"

Ajay nodded hesitantly before looking back out, he almost wished he had a bag on his head still… Those trees and the landscape were moving way too fast for his liking…

But despite how he was feeling Ajay had to say something to his host.

This man sitting beside him was the literal _King_ of this country!

Ajay just couldn’t believe anything that was going on but he knew that he had to endear himself to the complete stranger beside him.

He swallowed and cleared his throat before finally working up the courage to speak.

“T-this… This country's beautiful!"

Pagan’s brow was furrowed in confusion and he shook his head.

"I can't hear you my boy!” Pagan pointed towards the roof of the helicopter, “Wait till we land!"

Ajay laughed nervously at himself while he nodded.

He cringed in embarrassment and turned to look back out his window

-1-

The ride felt like almost no time had passed before the helicopter began to make its decent.

Gripping the hanging supports Ajay braced himself and his stomach as the vehicle began slowing down while the ground outside continued to get closer.

When the helicopter finally touched down and the engines began shutting down while the rotors slowed Pagan exclaimed, "Three point landing!"

Ajay turned towards him and Pagan furrowed his brow, "You know... part of me is surprised your mother asked for you to bring her all the way back here."

As Pagan was talking Kamran had jumped out of the cockpit and begun opening the bay door.

Pagan unbuckled his seat exclaimed; "Ah"

While exiting the body of the helicopter he turned to his pilot and spoke courteously "Thank you Kamran!"

Ajay asked hesitantly "You want me to follow you...?"

Pagan turned around and exhaled as he responded. His eyes looked up and he rolled his head before looking at Ajay.

"Jesus Christ. Yes boy, the ashes aren’t going to scatter themselves!"

Ajay hurriedly unbuckled his seat and exited quickly.

Pagan turned forward and took a few steps before turning back around to Ajay.

When Ajay’s feet touched solid ground Pagan paused before asking him a question, "Did your mother ever tell you about your father?"

Ajay shook his head, "Never. No."

"Mohan: the great protector of the Golden Path.” Pagan’s voice was sarcastic as he looked off in the distance. “Hmph, he was a cunt."

Turning back forward Pagan began walking and Ajay kept pace. In shock to hear someone who presumably knew his father call him a _cunt_.

"He whored your mother out,”

He paused, “sent her to spy on me.”

His body language relaxed as his voice began to flow with emotion. Pagan thought through his treasured memories as he continued his story.

“But we fell in love… had a child.”

Then his voice changed and he visibly contained his emotions.

“And that is when Mohan showed his true colours. He drove you and your mother away… even killed your sister; Lakshmana!”

Ajay’s eyes grew wide in surprise at the bomb that Pagan so easily just dropped on him.

“Which brings us here…"

Pagan stopped in front of a quaint building, the walls of which were a cracked and faded white.

The door was already open and incense and candles could be seen adorning the room.

All around were other articles of traditional Kyrati funeral rights; bells, charms, holy mandalas. Even some ornate traditional children's toys were strewn about the floor.

Ajay turned back to Pagan to see a deeply emotional expression on his face, the King’s voice was tinged with melancholy as he spoke.

"Lakshmana shouldn't be alone anymore."

He paused and exhaled as if he had finally put down a heavy weight. When he continued his voice was genuinely grateful.

"I'm so glad we're finally back together."

He nodded, and then pointed his head towards the room. "After you"

As Ajay slowly entered the room Pagan quietly closed the door.

Standing for a few seconds in awe of the quaint room, he could feel a tornado of emotion circle his head. Closing his eyes he did his best to stifle back all these emotions and then made his way towards the altar in the centre of the back wall.

With a degree of carefulness Ajay had never used before in his life he placed his mother's urn alongside that of his previously unknown sister.

Looking up from the small altar he saw the painted portrait of a beautiful baby girl holding a rattle hanging on the wall.

His sister…

‘She looked like mom’ he thought.

‘Mom…’

‘Lakshmana…’

He brought his hands together and held them close to his mouth as he closed his eyes to pray…

After a few minutes in silent reverence Ajay nodded to himself before opening his eyes to look down at the two urns.

He took a deep breath and tried to contain his emotions as he spoke;

"Goodbye mom...”

Tears started to well in both his eyes as he continued,

“Goodbye... Lakshmana…"

He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. Turning around he reached for the door and opened it.

Exiting the small mausoleum he let out a heavy breath before looking upwards at the sky.

‘It was a beautiful day…’

Upon seeing him Pagan called from where he stood against the helicopter, "Oh good. Do you feel better now?"

Ajay nodded before walking towards his host. Then Pagan continued, "Did you get it out of your system?"

This time Ajay audibly responded, a slight chuckle in his voice at Pagan’s expression, "Yeah."

Pagan smiled and nodded. "Good. And maybe now we can finally shoot some goddamn guns!"

Hoisting himself into the chopper Pagan sat in the door gunner's seat and waved Ajay to sit in the opposite one.

Kamran left the door open and quickly made his way to the cockpit. As the rotors started turning Pagan looked at Ajay and excitedly pointed to the bench seats they were on earlier.

"Check underneath! There should be a few machine guns under there!"

Ajay's eyes grew wide as Pagan leaned over and pulled what appeared to be an AK out from underneath the seating.

Cocking the weapon Pagan turned and looked out the side of the helicopter.

Following suit, Ajay leaned over and sure enough there was a loaded weapon clipped to the bottom of the seat.

Unlocking it from its fasteners Ajay pulled it up and out.

Keeping his finger off the trigger he cocked it, and looked to Pagan with a somewhat bewildered expression on his face.

Pagan laughed as he nodded.

"Ever been on a safari?!"

Ajay shook his head.

"Well you're about to have a hell of a time!"

Turning to the cockpit he yelled to Kamran.

"Let it rip Kamran, ha-ha-ha!"

Kamran pulled on his stick controls and the helicopter seemed to jump up into the air.

As they began climbing over the trees and buildings Kamran flicked a switch on his dash which caused the speakers on the sides of the craft to roar to life.

The Clash’s “Should I stay or should I go” began playing and Pagan obviously loved it.

Looking towards Ajay he yelled; "Let go Ajay! Just start shooting!"

Turning towards the open doorway Pagan began firing his gun off indiscriminately at the woods and trees below them.

Ajay laughed in disbelief before he flicked off the safety and brought the butt of the rifle to his shoulder.

Aiming his gun at one of the trees below, he slowly pulled the trigger.

 


	2. The Party

"You know Ajay as I look at you I am so deeply reminded of your mother."

Pagan gave Ajay an expression of solemn affirmation until his gaze broke and he looked downwards. He seemed to casually look at the gun lying across his lap.

Ajay didn't know what to say; truly he didn't know how to react to any of this.

He had just been informed that his true father, whom he wanted so badly to meet his entire life not only was a terrorist but he murdered his baby sister.

Ajay looked at Pagan with a different light; he wasn't scared of him anymore.

Well actually he still was… But he wasn't _as_ terrified as he was before. It was different, this man... he was his step-father.

He knew his mother.

Hell, he even said he loved his mother…

Ajay cleared his throat before asking something out of curiosity.

"So, what was it like?”

Pagan raised his eyebrow.

“You, my mother, Lakshmana, Me… all of us were living together?"

Ajay held his breath quietly. He looked at the man and expectantly waited.

Pagan tried to hide a smile from Ajay.

But he couldn't hide the new light in his eyes or the inflection of excitement in his voice as he recalled the memories.

"As I look back now, I know that it was the happiest time I have ever known."

He paused and looked right at Ajay.

"I had a daughter, I had a son; you… and I had Ishwari.”

His voice faltered, “There were issues don’t get me wrong, there was troubles within the country, but I was optimistic…”

“I had everything else I needed you see. I had the love of my life; I had a family to care for.”

He now smiled openly, “So I knew I could give it my all."

Ajay sat staring at the pink suited monarch.

"What did you see me as Pagan?" Pausing he breathed heavily. "What am I to you?"

Pagan looked up, moved his gun out of his lap and got closer to Ajay.

"My dear boy, I saw you then and I still see you now as my son."

Ajay almost recoiled and his hands shook slightly in shock. Pagan looked back down before continuing.

"At first I’ll admit that didn't,"

He rubbed his hands almost as if he were ashamed.

"At first you weren't even in the picture. But when Lakshmana was born, I changed, it... Well it all changed."

He offered a pained smile to Ajay.

"Then Ishwari told me about you and she brought you to live with us all, well I told her to bring you to live with us..."

Pagan stopped unexpectedly. He brought a fist up to his mouth as he very nearly shook.

"I was away from the palace when it happened."

The straining in his voice was audible, and Ajay winced as Pagan continued.

"Oh…” he exclaimed. His eyes grew red and wet as he looked upwards, tracing the distant mountain range with his eyes.

“I thought I was done this Ajay, I thought it was all over."

He looked down and took a breath through his nose, quietly speaking under his breath, “I suppose it’s never really over until we’re dead…”

Ajay furrowed his brow, what was he to say? How could he console this man he barely knew?

But before he could act Pagan spoke back up and continued talking.

"Mohan had somehow gotten into the palace.”

He paused and his voice became stoic as he continued, “He killed Lakshmana and then Ishwari was gone… She took you with her. And all that was left behind was a note."

He winced and made a breathy half-laugh, “A note and Mohan’s body…”

He cleared his throat and turned to face Ajay.

"Perhaps we could talk about this at another time Ajay... I know you want answers but this, this drudges through too many things at once."

Ajay nodded, "I understand... It's just; she never told me any of this."

Pagan finally smiled, "For some reason I had a feeling that she wouldn't have."

Ajay nodded as the two men sat together in silent contentment.

Before the silence could sour into awkwardness Pagan broke the quiet and Ajay’s eyes snapped to him.

"Remember how I told you we were to have a party?”

Ajay nodded.

“Well,” he clarified, “That there was going to be a party waiting for you?"

Ajay nodded again, but he furrowed his brow in confusion. "Isn't that what the crab, the food, and the whole sitting down thing earlier was?"

Pagan shook his head emphatically while he stood up, "No, no. No, that was merely a… enjoyable introduction.”

He laughed, “That was mainly to separate you from that terrorist…” he flicked his fingers as he tried to come up with the man’s name, “Dip tan or whatever it was.”

Ajay briefly thought about the man he had shared the long bus ride from India and across the border:

‘Darpan…’

-1-

“Welcome to India Mr. Ghale!”

A scruffy but handsome bearded middle aged man stood to the side of an escalator in the lobby of the Lokpriya Gopinath Bordoloi International Airport.

Before he had left the US he did a lot of online research and it seemed like the only way to get into Kyrat was to go to India and have a chartered bus transport him across a more lax area of the border.

Apparently there was a way to get to it through China or Bhutan, but either of those seemed illegal. And everything he read about it suggested that human traffickers or smugglers would have to be employed.

Neither of those options seemed like a good choice, so India it was then.

Ajay’s travel visa was approved but…

He still remembered the US consulate over the phone. The man’s voice was unsure and he stated multiple times that Ajay shouldn’t be going into the country while it was still unstable.

‘…Furthermore, we must legally advise you against travelling to Kyrat. We have no official diplomatic presence…’

‘It would be very difficult to provide any kind of assistance should you run into trouble out there…’

Darpan held out his hand and shook Ajay’s with a great deal of enthusiasm.

“You have my condolences for your mother’s passing…”

Ajay politely thanked the man. And he continued, “You have no idea how important it is that a Ghale is returning to Kyrat…”

Ajay furrowed his brow in apprehension.

“Right…”

Darpan looked around before turning back to Ajay, “Where are your bags? Is that all you have with you?”

Ajay patted his backpack.

“Yeah, my mom always taught me to travel light.” He laughed.

“I really don’t need that much.”

Darpan nodded approvingly. “My company’s bus is waiting outside, come, come!”

“Though I do need to pee,” Ajay laughed nervously, “Is there time or is the bus leaving right now?”

Darpan shook his head, “No! No worries Mr. Ghale, the bus only leaves when I say so.”

He laughed and pointed down a corridor to the right of the lobby. “There are restrooms down there, on the left of the hall. They’re very nice; clean and western.”

Ajay smiled politely and followed Darpan’s directions.

After relieving himself and washing his face Ajay nodded to himself in the mirror and met back with his guide.

Following Darpan closely, the two made their way through the crowd of people walking in and out of the Airport’s doors and into dark outside.

“It won’t be that long a drive Mr. Ghale. By the time we get over the border it’ll be daybreak!”

Darpan maintained a jovial attitude as he continued,

“And fear not, many of those aboard have done this trip many times… There’s nothing to worry about.”

Ajay smirked, “I read that there was sometimes trouble at the border crossings, people getting denied entry and being turned around.”

Darpan smiled and showed off his back gold-capped teeth. “I have a man at the border; we do business all the time. He’ll let us in and out.”

Ajay’s neck hairs stood on end.

He felt off; it definitely wasn’t a pleasant feeling but…

Well he was here for his mother’s burial so… A little unease, apprehension, anxiety; these were to be expected.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Especially since he was really… for the first time in his life, alone.

He had this guide Darpan… but, really, he didn’t know him so it was different.

Shaking his head Ajay cleared his mind and took a deep breath.

Darpan smacked the door of a colourfully decorated bus, its roof laden with luggage, and when the door opened the two climbed aboard.

“Get some rest Mr. Ghale! We’ll be drinking Kyrati tea across the border in no time.”

Ajay followed Darpan towards the back of the bus and took the first free seat he saw. “After the flight I had, I don’t know if I can rest…”

Darpan didn’t hear the mumbled sarcasm, “Sorry?”

Ajay waved his hand, “Don’t worry about it…”

He looked out the window as the bus began to move and he allowed his tired thoughts to wander.

‘Kyrat… The place I was born.’

‘I wonder if I’ll remember anything about it.’

Ajay snorted and chuckled to himself, ‘Meh, I doubt it…’

-2-

Pagan continued with his pleasant voice and Ajay came back to the present.

“The _real_ party will be back at my palace.”

Ajay’s concern got the better of him and he dared to ask about his former companion, "You... You're not going to have him killed are you?

Pagan paused, and his expression changed slightly. Leaning inwards to Ajay he spoke in a calmed and reassuring tone.

"Regardless of what he told you, that man is a terrorist. He'll be imprisoned and we'll question him. Depending on what his connections are to the Golden Path his sentencing will be adjusted accordingly."

Ajay nodded.

"What was he going to do with me?"

Pagan took a step back while he thought.

"Most likely he would have brought you to the Golden Path.”

He looked off as he continued, “Your name being Ghale would have given the terrorists a new tool to use."

Turning to point at Ajay Pagan spoke much slower. "Do not be fooled, they would have used you and not given a damn about you."

He lowered his hand and began walking towards the edge of the cliff face Kamran had landed the helicopter on.

"To them Ajay you're just a name, and I know exactly how they would have manipulated you."

Ajay moved his gun off his lap and placed it beside Pagan's on the floor of the helicopter. Standing up he walked closer to Pagan.

He stood looking at the king while he furrowed his brow slightly.

Not knowing another way to state it he just spoke what he was thinking: "Why? How would you know what they would have done?"

Pagan took a breath and looked out across the surrounding valley below.

"Because it's what I would have done. Not to cause you any alarm or concern but,” he laughed politely, “I didn't get to this position by sitting on my ass with no wits Ajay."

Ajay nodded and exhaled a slight laugh.

"I know Sabal."

Pagan leaned towards Ajay, "He's a cunt too.”

“He's entrenched so deeply into his tradition he almost ignores the modern world. However much more dangerously, he idolises your father, he would have guilt you as much as possible using the knowledge he has of your father. He would seek to control you."

Ajay looked down into the valley.

"I bet that what he would say wouldn't work on you now hmm?"

Pagan touched Ajay's shoulder and spoke in a kinder tone. "I know this a lot for you, so perhaps we discuss something else?"

He smiled genuinely "Something a little more upbeat, cheerful maybe?"

Ajay felt strangely reassured, and a little more at ease, "Yeah, let's hear about this party then."

Pagan's smile grew ever so slightly,

"Well! We'll have everyone there, at least everyone who's important."

He started walking back towards the helicopter.

"There will be musical entertainment, food, oh and even a fireworks show!"

Ajay stopped while Pagan re-entered the helicopter.

"All of that, just for me?" pointing at himself Ajay couldn't believe that Pagan cared that much.

"Well, yes?"

Pagan motioned for Ajay to join him.

"It'll also neatly coincide with our renewed assault on the rebels. So, it's a combination of several things. Not to demean your importance though Ajay, not at all."

Kamran leaned backwards from the cockpit, "Where to, your Majesty?"

"The Palace Kamran, and be speedy!" The pilot turned back to his controls while he gave thumbs up as an affirmative.

The rotors started up and the engine began to roar. Ajay grabbed the two guns on the floor while closing the side door.

"What should I do with these?"

Pagan looked around, "oh just throw them onto that seat."

Ajay nodded and sat beside the King before the takeoff threw him to the floor of the cabin.

Yelling over the noise of the engine Pagan, "I'm excited Ajay! I haven't been this excited in years!"

Ajay closed their distance, but still had to yell; "Whys that?"

Pagan laughed.

"Just a feeling my boy! Just a feeling!"

Before he could lean back in his seat Pagan's expression changed, he furrowed his brow and looked downwards in surprise.

He lifted the corner of his jacket and patted his pocket before pulling out his phone, the screen was bright and Ajay could only assume it was ringing and buzzing from a call. Pagan's expression became more surprised and had a little concern as well. Reaching into another pocket he pulled out a pair of magenta ear buds.

Leaning towards Ajay once again he yelled. "I have to take this! You understand!"

He shoved the buds into his ears and listened intently. His eyes told Ajay whatever was being said on the other side of the phone was not good.

Pagan spoke only once: "We're on our way!"

Pulling the buds out he turned to Ajay, and leaned close.

"I am so, so sorry my boy!” His eyes looked pained as he continued, “But there has to be a change of plans.”

“We have to go to the Royal Fortress, I'm sorry about this but I'll explain when we have the time!"

He looked up at the roof of the helicopter, "And I don't have to yell!"

He unbuckled his belt and stood up, grabbing onto the handles hanging from the roof of the cabin and slowly making his way to the cockpit.

He patted Kamran's shoulder and from where he was Ajay could barely make out any of the words he was saying. Kamran nodded at Pagan’s words and carefully turned the aircraft to the left.

Pagan patted Kamran’s shoulder again before turning back around. Slowly he started making his way back towards Ajay.

Unexpectedly there was a wind change and the helicopter shook and pitched side to side.

From the cockpit several beeps and whirrs emanated and Kamran visibly tried to steady the craft.

Pagan spread his legs and tried to balance himself as his free hand flailed searching for the other roof handle.

Much to Ajay's surprise he unbuckled his belt and extended his arm before he knew it.

"Grab my hand Pagan!"

As the turbulence threw the helicopter up and to the side, Pagan lost his grip and fell forwards onto his face with a heavy whack.

Ajay was thrown back into his seat and bounced towards the door. Wincing from the impact against the metal Ajay quickly looked towards Pagan.

The King had broken his nose on the steel floor and blood began to flow out in a heavy spout, down his face and all over his chest. Ajay moved towards his seat and wrapped his hand in one of the belts before extending his other hand towards Pagan.

"Grab it!"

He yelled.

Pagan Nodded while forcefully extending his own arm. Ajay reached just enough and was able to grab hold of Pagans hand and pull the King towards him.

Crawling onto the seats Pagan grabbed a belt and hurriedly clipped in. Ajay un-wrapped his anchor arm from the belt and then quickly clipped himself in.

Pagan brought his hand to his face and started swearing violently. He tapped Ajay's knee with the back of his hand and yelled to him. "How bad is it?!"

Ajay looked as Pagan lifted his other hand away from his face.

"I think it's broken!"

"Oh fuck!" The king exclaimed.

Pagan then began searching his pockets for something. Ajay looked on in frozen surprise before he eventually pulled out a white cloth handkerchief.

Pagan held the cloth to his face and reluctantly pushed against the steady flow of blood.

Though muffled and nasally, Ajay could hear him exclaim, "My god damn Suit!"

Ajay looked over the damage: blood had dribbled and now splattered all over Pagan’s light pink shirt, his jacket, pants, and once again there was blood on his shoes.

Out of reflex Ajay asked his host, "Are you going to be alright?"

Wordlessly Pagan nodded.

Kamran eventually steadied out the helicopter and used the P.A to speak to the two shaken up passengers, occasionally turning his head around so he could catch glimpses of his boss.

"Sir, are you alright?!"

The helicopter straightened out and started to lower to a safer altitude.

“Please, both of you hang on! I'm going to have to keep us lower; the weather's taken a turn!"

Pagan breathed heavily as he held the cloth to his nose and Ajay searched his pockets and pulled out a little package of travel tissues.

Ripping open the plastic package he tapped Pagan's shoulder before handing some to him.

Pagan nodded in appreciation before removing his handkerchief, the white of the fabric was now saturated carmine, and he replaced it on his face with the fresh tissues.

Dropping the cloth onto the floor of the helicopter Pagan tried to wipe as much as he could while the tissues were still useful.

As he went through tissue after tissue Ajay ended up handing the rest of the small package to him. This time Pagan yelled, "Thank you!" before continuing to clean the blood off.

The P.A crackled again as Kamran spoke; "Sir, we're four minutes out!"

Pagan exclaimed "Good!"

Turning to Ajay he then spoke with a strained voice. "Ajay my boy, after this I think I'm going to lay off the helicopter for a while!"

The remainder of the ride was marked only by the occasional up-gust rocking the craft, and Kamran’s rapid steadying which followed.

As the Fortress came into view from the chopper Pagan pointed towards it and Ajay's eyes widened at the amount of movement going on around the compound.

From where he was the soldiers looked like ants scurrying around a hill.

The helicopter began descending towards the base’s helipad and a pair of soldiers with blinking; orange, handheld, torches began waving the helicopter down.

Landing without incident the soldiers who directed Kamran down opened the doors for both Pagan and Ajay and the two exited on either side of the vehicle.

Several soldiers began grouping around Pagan. One had a Red Cross on his helmet and Ajay assumed he was a medic.

After the small medic was waved away Pagan called, "Ajay, follow me."

The medic attempted to follow Pagan, imploring that he had to clean and dress the broken nose.

But eventually he gave up as Pagan began returning salutes.

Each soldier the small entourage passed would salute and announce "the King!" or "King Min!"

Among the soldiers farther away they began cheering as much as martial discipline would allow. Cries of "King Min!" and "Long live the King!" resonated throughout the fortress.

Ajay couldn’t help but feel impressed at the reality of the situation around him.

Upon entering the main citadel of the Fort, Pagan was saluted to and then directed by a large man wearing a beret.

The soldier easily stood at six foot five and his huge muscles ensured that he dwarfed everyone in the room.

"Yuma is in the tactical command room awaiting your arrival your Majesty."

As the man said ‘your majesty’ he reverently bowed his head.

Pagan touched the man's large arm and smiled genuinely. "Thank you Dhunga.”

“Up here Ajay!”

Climbing some concrete steps Pagan and Ajay entered into a large room surrounded by map screens, computers, stations and tables. At each station was a technician speaking into a phone or radio, or headset.

Multiple languages were flying here and there: people were speaking Nepalese, Cantonese, Kyrati, but the largest bridge language was English.

Leaning over a table with a map sprawled across it was a petite Asian woman with bright pink hair; she was speaking loudly and pointing at the map while an officer beside her took dictation.

Pagan leaned to Ajay while pointing at her.

"That spicy little gal is Yuma. She's my second in command.”

He waited a second as the watched her quietly, “We’ve known each other forever…” he laughed.

“Oh she’s also the leader of the Royal Guard. So don't let her appearance fool you; she really is a vicious bitch."

Walking away from Ajay and towards the table Pagan continued loud enough for her to hear, "But I love the little lady all the same!"

He started walking towards her with his arms outstretched as if he were going in for a hug. She looked up from the map and was immediately taken aback by Pagan's still bloody face.

Instantly she exclaimed in Cantonese: "What the hell happened to your face?!”

Pagan nodded, and responded in English, "Yes, yes, I know, I fell. Regardless! Is everything ready?"

Yuma tilted her head to one side and nodded, rolling her eyes as she looked back down at the map continuing to talk in Cantonese:

"Everything’s been ready for ages… And we’ve been waiting for you for hours."

"Okay, I know. You want a raise." Pagan turned back to Ajay to make an eye roll before returning to Yuma.

Yuma looked past Pagan at Ajay, her eyes gave a somewhat surprised look and she proceeded to look him once over. She smirked slightly before speaking to Pagan in a much different tone then before.

"Who’s the cutie?"

Pagan turned to Yuma with a smile, "That is Ajay Gale."

She looked at Pagan like he had three heads, and he quickly spoke "Don't worry yourself, he's on our side. Right, Ajay?"

He looked between the two of them and nodded, though he had no idea what she had said he blurted out; "Yeah, sure, I'll do whatever I can to help."

"Oh polite, dependable and offers to help."

Pagan turned to Yuma, "isn't he just a perfect find?"

Yuma curled her mouth and raised an eyebrow, "Just so long as he remains on our side… But don’t forget we’ve got shit to do here."

Pagan nodded as he followed her fingers tracing the map. "Yes I know…”

Turning away from his second in command Pagan looked at Ajay.

“My boy I'm terribly sorry that we'll have to postpone the party, but we’re just about to clean up this little terrorist issue.”

He closed his eyes as he continued, comically exaggerating his words, “But I promise! _Promise!_ That we’ll have a fantastic party! Later, as a great, big, victorious, team… together."

Ajay nodded and let it roll…

What else could he do?

And as he thought about it, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do now, so why not roll along with it?

Though as he looked around at the soldiers moving to and fro a thought bubbled up in his mind; ‘this can't possibly be how real people operate. This place is just plain crazy...'

 


	3. The Tiger

As he waited Ajay was invited to enjoy some freshly brewed Kyrati tea. A soldier had come up to him with a blank non-descript mug and smiled while he offered it to the guest.

After taking the hot, black coloured, ceramic mug, the solider politely leaned forwards and gave Ajay a slight bow. Out of reflex Ajay returned the courtesy.

The refreshment soldier then turned around and began making his way from each soldier, or technician, in the command centre. Producing from his fatigue jacket a small pencil and notepad Ajay assumed that he must have been writing down orders for beverages, or maybe even food.

‘Must be one hell of a job in this place…’ Ajay thought. ‘I wonder how long these guys are at their jobs.’

Several soldiers stepped back from their consoles, stretching, yawning, or rubbing their eyes. Mugs, cups, and paper plates were at almost every station.

‘These guys all must have been here for a while.’ Ajay took a small sip from his mug as he continued to people-watch.

‘Well this is basically a control room right? So they probably have really high stress kind of jobs…’

Ajay’s thoughts had been given free rein to wander as he waited.

Occasionally he’d watch his host Pagan as he and the woman… Yuma? Yeah that was her name. The two of them spoke to each other in… Ajay furrowed his brow.

It sounded like Chinese, but with so many different people in the room he couldn’t tell.

Shrugging Ajay backed up towards the doorway that he and Pagan entered through and leaned against the wall.

‘I better stay out of the way.’ He thought.

Oddly enough Ajay had calmed down since the helicopter ordeal and while it was all still ridiculous and the situation was absolutely unbelievable he couldn’t help but feel… Excited?

‘This isn't actually all that bad, this is… actually quite exciting!’

Ajay quietly smiled to himself as he nursed his warm tea.

Pagan concluded his meeting with Yuma and he smiled towards Ajay.

“Ajay, my boy, I’m going to go get this cleaned up…” He pointed towards his face. “I won’t be long!”

Ajay swallowed a big gulp of his drink and nodded, trying to clear his mouth to vocally respond. Pagan didn’t notice or didn’t wait and speedily walked out of the room and back down the stairs they had come from.

‘Okay… looks like I’m alone now, heh.’

Watching the buzzing room Ajay caught Yuma’s gaze.

She leaned against the edge of the table in front of her and brought her hand to her mouth.

Yuma narrowed her eyebrows ever so slightly and touched her lips with her knuckle. She was deep in thought.

She remembered Ajay but it was vague. It had been years…

Yuma could recall Pagan’s ‘new family’. She sneered; it was gross how happy he was… But then her heart tightened.

‘Pagan didn’t deserve to lose them all.’ She thought. She looked down pensively.

‘That’s what changed him…’ she nodded and looked back up at Ajay. ‘But now, with Ajay Ghale back in the picture?’

A mischievous smile crept across her face. ‘Looks like big brother might just get his spark back.’

Beside her a soldier brought a sheet of information and a file towards her.

“Commander Lau, here’s the intelligence you asked for.”

Snapping back to her current situation Yuma nodded.

“Is this everything we’ve got on Banapur’s approach?”

The soldier nodded, “Yes Ma’am, notes on the known caches and possible emplacements have been outlined” He pointed to one of the papers now in Yuma’s hands.

“Here and… here.”

Yuma looked over approvingly, quietly nodded and mumbling.

Knowing that she had no further questions the soldier curtly saluted and clicked his heels, “Ma’am.”

He walked back across the room and past Ajay out the doors and down the stairs.

Ajay continued to sip his tea and look from person to person. ‘This is so cool…’

With a strange excitement he allowed himself a small giggle.

-1-

When Pagan returned his face had been washed and there was now a white medical bandage taped across his nose.

He walked up the stairs and turned the corner to touch Ajay’s arm. Smiling at Ajay’s concerned expression.

The King had also changed out of his bright suit and into a much more subdued outfit. He was wearing a military uniform now, but his penchant for flair was still present.

He had donned a camo uniform with purple highlights similar to that of Yuma’s.

It was relatively plain; there was nothing on the uniform to denote a military rank.

But Ajay noticed that wherever there would have been chevrons, or captain’s bars, oak leaves, or stars, instead there was a golden crown.

He could only assume that it was because Pagan was literally the highest commanding officer of the Kyrat…

He was the King, and so a simple crown insignia made a lot of sense if he continued to think about it.

As Pagan partially entered the room, he began to speak.

"Ajay, how would you like to get some," he paused and looked him over, "More suitable clothing?"

Ajay furrowed his brow. He bought his whole outfit because it was temperature and condition rated for the Himalayas.

Dumbfounded he immediately blurted out in confusion, "I, uh, I don't know what you mean. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

Pagan immediately put his hands up, "I intended no offence Ajay. I was merely offering to get you something a little more...  _you."_

The king smiled and waited as Ajay mulled it over, Ajay looked down at his jacket and his pants and finally acquiesced. “Alright… sure.”

“Splendid!” Pagan exclaimed, “Follow me!”

Turning back down the stairs Pagan flew down the steps and waved Ajay to follow. The two walked down a corridor and past several heavily armed troops.

“Keep up my boy!” Pagan would occasionally call.

After a few more steps Pagan then led Ajay down another flight of stairs to an armoury.

The heavy metal door reminded Ajay of a bank vault and he stopped before they even entered the small room.

Pagan’s American guest stood mid step and marvelled at stacks of ammunition crates. The wall-to-wall racks of weapons and heavy ordinance.

Ajay almost dropped his tea as he stared at the metric ton of military hardware sitting in front of him.

Pagan laughed slightly, and walked towards one of the carbon-fibre crates in a pile in the centre of the room.

“We just got these bad boys…” He announced happily.

Opening the case he reached in and pulled out a brand new military grade flak vest. It even still had the manufacturer’s tags on it. Pulling the small plastic tags and warnings off of the vest Pagan sighed satisfactorily.

Taking a few steps forward Pagan brought the present to Ajay. "This is what I more or less had in mind for you."

Ajay let out a laugh of disbelief as he reached out to grab the vest.

Pagan smiled again and handed it over to him. “I can hold that for you.”

The two then exchanged items, Ajay carefully handed Pagan his mug of tea and Pagan gave him the awkward to hold vest.

"Now put it on! Adjust it! Make sure it fits!"

Pagan spoke exactly like an excited parent watching the kid handle a Christmas present.

As Ajay pulled the straps and zipped up the vest he shrugged and shifted his weight as it snugly wrapped around him.

All the while Pagan smiled and nodded approvingly.

"Perfect, now Ajay. Choose your weapon."

Ajay looked at him and hesitated.

"You're, you're not serious are you?"

Pagan nodded and raised an eyebrow. "You did say you wanted to help?”

He laughed, “Also, I've seen you shoot, so you can't use the excuse that you’ve never handled gun before!"

Ajay looked around the room and began considering a weapon.

‘Wait... I'm not actually going to do this am I?’ his mind yelled in surprise.

Pagan chimed up again after sipping Ajay's tea. "Oh, and about your shooting, you're actually quite good.”

Pagan comically raised an eyebrow, “Where and who taught you?"

Ajay looked back at the King and quickly responded, "Actually I learned from the US Army."

Pagan's eyes shot open widely, "Ajay! You just don't stop with the surprises!"

The king took another sip of Ajay's tea before he continued; "Were you ever deployed? Have you seen combat?"

Ajay shook his head, "I participated in two war games on home soil. But that's about it."

Pagan handed Ajay back his tea as he continued speaking. It was funny but Pagan actually sounded relieved that Ajay hadn’t been deployed.

It seemed like Pagan really… well… It seemed like he really did consider himself Ajay’s parent…

"Well, that’s good… I wouldn’t have wanted my Ajay to be hurt in some sandbox with subpar equipment.”

He chuckled, “Wargames you said?”

Ajay nodded.

“That's good experience, but you'll be part of a real war game today, no mistake."

As Ajay took his mug of tea back he looked at it with a furrowed brow before looking back up at Pagan.

By now the King had walked towards the wall with a determined step. Reaching for a weapon he pulled it off the wall and its hooks with ease.

Turning back around Pagan was almost giddy with excitement.

"Here you are Ajay, I don't know if you'll like it but! It should be close to what you're used to."

He handed Ajay the weapon and upon seeing it he knew exactly what it was; a Heckler & Koch four one six.

Again the two exchanged items, this time a mug for a gun.

Ajay slowly took hold of the weapon and checked it.

The safety was on, the bolt was open, and the breach was clear.

He took a breath, disengaged the safety and closed the bolt before cocking the weapon. Ajay shouldered it and started looking down its sights.

‘This is cool as hell…’ He thought.

Pagan smiled again, but this time more briefly. "Load up on whatever else your little heart desires my boy."

Ajay nodded hesitantly as he looked away from the sights and to his host; "Seriously?"

Pagan nodded. "Absolutely,”

“Then after you're done down here, meet me outside in the court yard. I have one more thing to show you before we leave."

Ajay nodded and the King left the room in a flash.

Now alone, and with no one to watch him, Ajay let out an excited giggle.

“Oh my god this is so cool!”

He looked over the walls of weapons and began to recognise ones he had handled in the army, one’s he learned about, and ones he’d seen in movies and videogames.

“This is just so, totally unreal!”

He laughed and walked closer to a bench against the wall, looking closely at all the items strewn about its surface.

Almost as soon as Pagan had left Ajay wasn’t actually alone.

Behind him and without making a sound Yuma had slipped into the room.

Ajay shook his head in disbelief at the arsenal around him and at the growing absurdity of his ever changing situation.

In a soft voice, somewhat out of place amongst the weapons, Yuma finally announced her presence. "You've changed him you know."

Ajay nearly dropped his gun and immediately jolted in surprise.

Yuma laughed.

Bringing a hand up to her mouth she covered her smile and sighed.

"Look at you all dressed up and ready to play soldier."

Ajay didn’t know what to make of her tone, but he thought better of saying anything.

‘Say nothing, it’s not worth the risk of looking like an idiot.’ He told himself.

Knowing the temperament of Pagan, he could only guess at the possible temperament of the pink haired woman in front of him.

She seemed disappointed that he remained silent.

"It's okay Ghale, I was only teasing."

She lowered her gaze and looked over Ajay again, much like earlier but this time she was much more liberal with where her eyes lingered.

Ajay soon realised what she was doing and immediately felt uncomfortable.

‘Woah… okay this is weird…’ he thought.

From her leaned back and relaxed body language coupled with her new strange attitude it wasn’t obvious what she was thinking.

Ajay cleared his throat and tried to find his voice in the mounting air of awkwardness, before he could Yuma spoke up again.

"Seriously, you have changed him.”

Involuntarily Ajay blurted out, “Who, Pagan?”

Yuma angled her face down and rolled her eyes.

Her body screamed ‘duh’ but she calmly responded.

“Yes, King Min…”

She adjusted her stance and folded her arms while leaning back.

“You know it got so bad that he barely left his palace.”

She smirked and raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“He couldn't ever bring himself to deliver the killing blow to the Golden Path. But now, there's a fire in his eye again."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; opening them again she walked slowly towards Ajay.

Her eyes crinkled in the corners and she raised the corner of her lip in a half smile.

With each step her hips moved from side to side.

Whether it was on purpose or involuntary Ajay's eyes obviously widened in surprise.

Yuma smiled coyly and kept walking closer and closer to Ajay.

Quickly she ended up invading his personal space, and now as if in a cooing tone she spoke again.

"I suppose I have you to thank for this."

She slowly walked around Ajay and he stood frozen by both surprise and complete disbelief.

When she was behind him he could feel her hands slowly wrap around his waist in a hug. Then he felt her chest press against his back as she finished the gesture.

For a moment the two stood quietly in the centre of the room. Then Ajay felt and heard the sound of her hands moving on his vest.

The hands lowered until they reached his belt line.

Yuma’s small and nimble fingers quickly made their way along the top of his pants towards his hips.

Ajay’s eyes grew even wider and he stepped forward, throwing her arms off of him and turning around quickly.

"Woah!” He yelled, “What the hell are you doing?"

Now facing her Ajay's face could only express complete shock.

‘What the fuck?’ he thought.

She hid a small smile and shifted her weight again.

“You don’t want my gratitude?”

Ajay furrowed his brow in confusion, “Just what the hell are trying to do here?”

Yuma took a few steps close to him again.

She held up her open palms and her body language seemed penitent.

“Sorry…” she said.

Ajay raised an eyebrow and watched her uneasily.

Her voice sounded almost playful, “I promise I won’t do anything to hurt you…”

Closing their distance Yuma raised her right hand and slowly brought it to Ajay’s face.

He mumbled a protest and tried moving his head backwards, but she eventually finished what I was she wanted to do.

Her warm hand cupped his jaw and she rubbed his cheek with her thumb in a small caress.

Ajay shuffled uncomfortably under the touch.

Now that they were close he lowered his voice and began to speak.

"What are you doing?"

Yuma shook her head and before he could finish the question she brought her left hand up and silenced him by lightly touching his lips.

In a low and calming voice she leaned closer to his ear and whispered _,_ "Just shut up Ajay..."

She then brought her left hand so that she was now holding either side of Ajay’s face.

She smiled and brought her face closer to his. She pushed out her lips and kissed him affectionately on the cheek.

Ajay stood motionless in surprise as his heartbeat thumped loudly in his chest.

Letting go of his face Yuma stepped back before speaking in a normal tone. "Pagan had something he wanted you to do didn't he?"

Ajay snapped to and nodded emphatically. Clearing his throat he dryly stuttered as he responded, "Y-yeah, he wanted to show me something."

She made an almost disappointed ‘mm’ in affirmation before making her way towards the door.

"Run along Mr. Ghale.”

She stepped through the vault-like doorway and continued, raising her voice as she walked farther away.

“King Min isn't one to be kept waiting. We’ll talk later."

Watching her disappear down an adjacent hallway Ajay shuddered and rolled his shoulders.

“What the hell was that…” he spoke under his breath.

Ajay's heart was beating intensely and his left hand shook slightly.

‘I was basically just molested…’

He shook, ‘But I don’t think the Kyrati Army has a sexual assault hotline I could call…’

Laughing nervously, Ajay tried to clear his mind.

Even though he felt kind of violated… And even though every alarm in his head was screaming: ‘Danger,’ ‘danger Ajay Ghale!’ he still couldn’t help but think about the woman who had just kissed him.

While he was genuinely perturbed by what had just happened, Ajay could help but think about Ms. Yuma Lau…

His mind pictured her; she was undressing her uniform and looking at him with desire… ‘Ajay…’ she said, ‘can’t you help me?’ She’d point at the few buttons left on her jacket.

In the V of the now open clothing he could see the hint of her breasts…

He wondered what they looked like…

From her uniform and its dark colours along with its utilitarian purpose it unfortunately left everything to Ajay’s imagination.

He shook his head to try and clear the thoughts.

‘Just grab a kit and get the hell out of here…’ He told himself.

-1-

Exiting the command building Ajay entered into the large courtyard.

Quickly he began looking around the bustling fort for his host.

After finally sighting him, Ajay was honestly relieved to see Pagan’s familiar face. When the King made eye contact with Ajay he smiled and waved him over.

As Ajay began walking across the dirt he adjusted the sling of his rifle and briefly a vivid image of a scantily clad Yuma flashed in his mind.

He stopped and his eyes widened, ‘No, nope! Stop it!’ he began telling himself.

Shaking his head again he walked closer to Pagan.

From where he was Ajay could see Pagan beaming a smile but upon seeing Ajay's face Pagan's expression changed to concern.

"Ajay? Are you alright my boy? You look quite flush."

Ajay quickly began speaking, "Yeah, I'm fine… Just uh, all the excitement I suppose."

The shakiness in his voice was obvious and Pagan nodded once slowly. "Uh-huh."

His voice was one of disbelief. Leaning towards Ajay Pagan raised his eyebrow quizzically and then fired the perfect question: "Did Yuma get you alone?"

Without wanting to Ajay's expression changed and Pagan slyly smiled.

Ajay stuttered nervously in surprise, "H-How did you know?"

Pagan patted his shoulder.

"Yuma commented on your appearance when she first saw you."

He looked off, "I had a feeling she would approach you, but I didn't think she'd try to make you this flustered.”

Ajay's mouth was agape; he audibly announced his confusion through a perfectly timed "Huh?"

"It's been a while since she's gotten her anxieties out.” Pagan furrowed his brow seriously as he continued to think aloud.

”I imagine a good rough and tumble might do her good…"

Pagan patted Ajay's shoulder again "Her last boy-toy was some Japanese pop star," He chuckled, “Oh the bills from those hotels in Tokyo! Trashed! Every room they ever stayed in…”

He shook his head in reminiscence.

"Anyways, don't put too much thought into it. I know you're a smart lad, and you'll avoid any un-necessary funny business."

Ajay nodded as he gave a lacklustre "Yeah..."

Changing his tone Pagan pointed at Ajay as he spoke, “Do I have something to show you! Follow me."

Ajay gave a bewildered expression before following his host closely.

Pagan proceeded to excitedly walk across the courtyard towards what Ajay assumed to be a depot; there were several soldiers loading onto military style trucks and several technicians were working on smaller, red painted, tactical vehicles; each was adorned with a large machinegun and additional plates of armour.

The building they were in front of had two large metal doors and was reminiscent of a military silo or vehicle garage of some kind.

As Pagan and Ajay walked closer to the building the soldiers once again cheered at the sight of their King. The men saluted heartily and the eagerness and excitement of the troops was palpable in air.

A few Captains walked up towards Pagan and held out clipboards towards him, with annoyance he waved them off and didn't at all slow his pace.

"Can these reports wait gentlemen, perhaps after the assault?"

Turning to Ajay he rolled his eyes. "Unbelievable."

The Captains looked at each other and then Pagan before they nodded.

Having finally reached the depot building, Pagan entered between the large steel doors and Ajay, with just a dash of reluctance, followed.

Several soldiers came up to Pagan and began talking to him in Cantonese; unlike the captains earlier Pagan intently provided his attention.

Ajay looked first at them and noticed that they were dressed unlike any other soldiers he had seen so far. There were maybe nine of them, and then like finally noticing a shark in a swimming pool; Ajay realized what was behind the group of men.

Pagan turned around just in time to see Ajay's face and he beamed an excited smile.

"Ajay my boy, come here!"

Ajay began slowly walking towards Pagan, keeping his eyes fixed on the massive item in front of them.

From his dry mouth Ajay eventually spoke, "Is... Is that what I think it is?"

Pagan laughed and nodded, "This here is the Henschel Panzer six version H, given the loving nickname ‘The Tiger’."

Ajay stood dumbfounded before he finally found his voice, "You have a tiger tank..."

Turning away from the tank Ajay looked at the King with a gaze that said ‘you are crazy’.

Immediately Pagan raised his hands in his defense, "Now! Now! I didn't buy it; one of Kyrat's previous monarchs did…” Ajay’s eyes softened slightly.

“However! I did spend the money to bring it to working condition."

Ajay let out a slight laugh, ‘I have got to write a book when I get home…’

"So uh, Pagan, let me get this straight... You want me to accompany you on a military 'assault' against the terrorists who wanted to kidnap me, shoot weapons at actual people, and ride with you in a fucking seventy year old German tank?"

Pagan was biting his lip, baring his teeth visibly, while his eyes were opened widely.

"Uh... Yeah?”

 Furrowing his brow Pagan continued, "Do you have anything else to do right now?"

Ajay had to admit he didn't.

"No… I guess not."

Pagan raised his eyebrows and poked Ajay's shoulder playfully.

"It could be fun!"

Ajay looked at him with a smile of utter disbelief.

"Are we going to be shot at?"

Pagan nodded, "Most likely."

"Are we going to blow stuff up?"

This time he smirked, "Uh, definitely"

Ajay looked at Pagan and asked a final question, "Are we going to tear shit up?"

Pagan's eyes widened and he smacked Ajay's shoulder. He laughed loudly and excitedly ran towards the tank.

"Ajay my boy! We are going to have a fucking ball!"

He climbed on top of the beast and opened its hatch. Ajay’s thoughts finally gave in to the craziness around him, ‘this is literally insane, but... You know what... fuck it!’

Running to the tank Ajay followed suit and excitedly climbed aboard, Pagan sat on the turret and invited Ajay to sit with him. Ajay couldn't help but laugh with anxious excitement.

Several of the crew from earlier climbed aboard as well and promptly entered the cabin of the machine.

Ajay turned to watch them descend into the turret hatch and Pagan spoke, "wait a second up here."

Turning to the hatch Pagan yelled to the crew, "Start her up!"

The engine roared so loud Ajay almost jumped off the turret in surprise. He turned to Pagan with utter surprise on his face and the two of them laughed.

"I can barely hear over the noise!" He shouted.

Pagan nodded and leaned closely to Ajay, "Let's get inside now!"

Jumping into the hatch Pagan promptly sat onto the commander's seat, and invited Ajay to sit in the gunner's.

"To bring it working condition we’ve had quite a few things done to her to make such an antique viable again… Especially in our modern world of rocket propelled weaponry."

Ajay nodded, "Understandable…"

Pagan pointed to each of the systems as he spoke, "Optics are all new and improved, with cameras and the latest target identifying technology, faculties are now monitored by modern computer systems…”

He pointed behind them, “The engine has also been completely retrofitted.”

Pointing above them he continued, “We've also added a new layer of defensive armour all over the exterior, replacing plates and so on."

Pagan concluded his list with a statement Ajay confidently agreed with, "We basically made a Frankenstein tank, because we could… and because it's fucking cool."

Ajay leaned towards Pagan, "This is probably one of the sickest things I've ever seen."

Pagan smiled at the compliment; "Are you ready my boy?"

Ajay made a noise almost like a scoff, and nodded. "Hell yeah, I want to blow something up."

Turning to the driver Pagan yelled with excitement, "Head her out!"

Quickly the beast began to move and Pagan pointed to the hatches, “It’s a better view from out there.”

Opening the second turret hatch the two of them poked their heads out and the tank began making its way out of the garage depot.

As the armoured beast exited into the courtyard the soldiers began filing into their transports and tactical trucks.

Soon enough the vehicles formed a mobile convoy and followed the leading tank.

Pagan looked at Ajay as he vocalised what the young man was thinking, "Unbelievable isn't it?"

Ajay nodded in complete agreement.

"Now here's the plan, we'll head immediately south towards King's Bridge. Once we cross it our convoy will then head southwest until we reach Terai province… It’s the main seat of the Golden Path."

Pagan got as close as he was able to Ajay so he wouldn't have to yell as loudly.

"This'll be the first time in decades I've ordered let alone accompanied a total offensive against the Golden Path!"

He held his hands up, "Now Yuma, Paul and to a lesser extent, Noore, have been doing their best in holding these terrorists at bay; making sure they can't make any gains outside of the tea fields. But I’ll admit I have been putting the killing blow off for far too long…”

Ajay nodded before responding, "First off, who's Noore? And also if you don't mind me asking, why now? Like I mean why are you deciding to act now?"

Pagan nodded, "Remember how I told you back at Paul's that we had seen terrorists in the area?”

Ajay nodded in affirmation and Pagan continued,

“Yes well, Paul was able to take care of them and after tor- interrogating your deadpan, I mean Darpan sorry, he relayed to Yuma and I that the Golden Path has a large presence ready to fight formed in Terai province."

"So we're going to do what? Like wipe 'em out?"

Pagan nodded, "Once and for all Ajay! Once and for all, now it's a bit of a ride so, sit and enjoy the scenery my boy.”

Leaning back Pagan sighed before he suddenly remembered something, “Actually! Do you have an iPod?"

Ajay was slightly surprised, "Yeah, why?"

Pagan pointed towards the tank and lowered himself back through the hatch into the cabin. Ajay followed suit and Pagan grabbed a white cord protruding from a computer panel on the side of the tank’s cabin.

"Do you want to play anything?"

After exhaling a laugh of disbelief Ajay nodded, and felt his pockets around before pulling his iPod out of his jeans.

"Here."

Pagan grabbed it and clipped the wire into the bottom of the iPod and turned it on. After scrolling through a few pages Pagan finally exclaimed "Ah! Ajay, you and I are going to get along famously…"

Having made his selection Pagan pressed his finger against the screen and then flicked a switch on the electronic panel.

Speakers both on the outside and inside of the tank crackled with interference before coming to life. Soon music began blaring out and Pagan quite happily began grooving to it.

Ajay’s cheeks became red with embarrassment… "I can't believe you chose that."

Pagan laughed, "Well my boy I can't believe you have that on your iPod!"

To the ears of the soldiers behind the tank, in the tank, and locals on the sides of the road the tank passed, the speakers began blaring:

' _Hiya Barbie!'_

' _Hi Ken!'_

' _Wanna go for a ride?'_

' _Sure Ken!'_

' _Jump in!'_

 


	4. King's Bridge

“My God, that was a long drive!” The King yelled.

It was a startling announcement, and Ajay who’d been looking to the side of the road watching the passing rice-fields and waving peasantry, now turned his attention back to face Pagan.

As he did so the King brought a small silver container from his coat’s interior pocket and gingerly unscrewed the top of the cylindrical vessel.

Minding the fact that the tank was still moving, and now across relatively uneven terrain, Pagan lent forwards whilst also bringing the container to his nose.

Ajay was poking out of the second hatch in the turret and eyed Pagan with surprise and frozen apprehension. He didn’t expect to see the King, his ‘host’, doing cocaine in front of him, let alone did he expect him to be doing it right now:

On top of a tank,

In the middle of driving,

Before going into actual combat…

“Pagan? W-what the hell?” Ajay finally blurted out.

Looking up and blinking rapidly in a daze, Pagan took a moment of staring straight ahead before Ajay’s words registered.

Shaking his head ‘as a matter of course’ Pagan spoke; “Oh! How’d utterly rude of me!”

He held the container tightly in his grip but began to extend and offer the narcotic to Ajay. The boy’s surprised expression intensified and after a few tense seconds Ajay looked up from the container and wordlessly shook his head.

Pagan brow was furrowed and his expression was stern and disapproving.

But then he turned tack and his brow immediately softened as he laughed, “Not to worry my boy! It’s not for everyone.”

Screwing the cap back on Pagan sighed satisfactorily before ending the noise with a growl.

“Ah!” Pagan shook his hands and rubbed his bruised nose before continuing.

“Nothing like it to get me in the _Bloody Mood!_ ”

Ajay nodded, “R-right…”

Returning the cocaine to its home in Pagan’s pocket he descended slightly into the turret of the tank and darted back up the hole like a white haired rabbit.

He’d grabbed a pair of rangefinder binoculars and now with the sights up to his eyes he began surveying the area down the road in front of them.

Ajay strained his eyes down the road to follow and try to see what Pagan was looking at.

Under his breath the King began to mumble, though it was too quiet to be heard over the roaring engine.

Bringing the binoculars away from his face Pagan tapped Ajay on the side of his arm with them before pointing.

“Here take them, see down there?” Pagan asked quizzically.

Ajay began looking and quickly began to scan.

Up ahead there was some dilapidated farm houses and what appeared to be a run-down road-stop; gas station, bar, et cetera, but it was devoid of life and looked worse than the majority of the buildings Ajay had seen so far in Kyrat.

But in between the few buildings, blocking the middle path of egress down the road was an informal roadblock of some sort.

It looked like a jumble of several different things put together, fixtures, appliances, a broken sink, and scrap wood.

After he’d looked at it enough he returned the binoculars to Pagan and responded, making sure his voice was loud enough over the engine.

“There’s something on the road?”

Pagan nodded before descending back into the tank.

As he did he closed his hatch and Ajay followed suit.

“Time to button up and send the lads forwards I think.”

Ajay nodded as Pagan went to his radio.

The cabin of the tank was loud from both the rattling of the machinery but also the laughter and talking of the crew.

Ajay sat down as he watched Pagan.

“Yes? Are you reading me over? … This is Tiger-actual, Alpha and Delta, I want you to advance to the buildings up ahead and clear them before the rest of the column advances, over?”

Ajay watched as Pagan bit his thumb while listening to the responses.

“Tiger-actual, over and out” Replacing the radio headset Pagan tapped the driver on the shoulder.

“Slow our pace and stop about ten metres up ahead.”

The driver nodded and shortly the tank lurched to a halt.

Beside the radio there was a display computer and Pagan switched the feed to the primary camera mounted on the front of the turret.

Tensely Ajay and Pagan watched as the two squads swept up on either side of the tank. The men began fanning out and keeping a staggered distance between them as they quickly crossed the distance from where they were stopped towards the buildings up ahead.

Watching the men begin to close the distance with the buildings Pagan nodded to himself as he scanned the image for any movement, other than the troops.

“Begin moving up…”

“But slowly, I want to be able to support.”

The tank moved forwards and the troops were hesitantly encroaching on the buildings.

Then as soon as they were less than sixty or so metres away small arms fire began to erupt.

“Here we go!”

Grabbing the radio headset again Pagan began to listen to the chatter.

“Ajay! Get on that machine gun and fire at any muzzle flashes you see!”

With his heart beating faster than ever Ajay nodded and sat himself in the support gunner’s seat and started to fire.

Turning back to the camera display Pagan began speaking to his men.

“This is Tiger-actual, we are going to engage the buildings, stay low, friendly ordinance incoming, over!”

Turning away from the camera Pagan pointed to one of his men in the tank, “Load H E, target the gas station, it’s the blue roofed building on the right.”

The soldier nodded and grabbed one of the red tipped high explosive shells before loading it into the receiver of the eighty eight millimetre cannon.

“Driver, hold position!”

The tank lurched forwards as it stopped, quickly balancing and becoming level again as the new shocks and equipment stabilized the turret.

“Ajay, this is going to be loud…” Pagan could scarcely contain his glee as he continued issuing his orders.

“Find the range!”

The gunner nodded as he looked through his optics, “Finding range…”

Pagan now looked through his own as he saw what the gunner saw, “Zero!”

“Zeroing…”

There was a pause in the tank that was palpable, this was the first time Pagan had ever actually been able to play with his ‘toy’ and he was relishing and taking in every moment of it.

After the anticipation had built, and after he was finally ready, Pagan gave the go ahead,

“Fire!”

Punching the trigger, the gun exploded as she fired, and the cabin rang as the shell flew from the tank.

The noise was deafening and the steel rattled as it got to do what it had not been able to in three quarters of a century.

Flying through the air the shell passed over top of Pagan’s troops who were prone and returning the small arms fire to the windows and to the few positions in the woods around the buildings.

As the shell broke through the wall of the blue rooved building it delivered its high yield, sending wood and debris everywhere as the poorly maintained building exploded.

The walls buckled and fell over as chunks blew away, the roof of the building ripped up before collapsing downwards in on itself.

Pagan’s men thoroughly enjoyed the display and began cheering before advancing in the cover that the ‘fire for effect’ caused.

They cried: “For the King!” as they began to move rapidly, firing at the golden path members, and diving behind cover as they closed the distance.

Ajay watched the destruction through the optics of his gun, and Pagan excitedly clapped and smacked one of the crew members over the head.

“Reload!” He finally managed to say.

“Oh! I’ve got to see that again!”

The gunner grabbed another shell as the tank moved forwards and Pagan communicated with his men, he nodded as he listened to the squad leaders and curtly responded “Roger that.”

Turning from the radio and screen Pagan relayed what he’d just heard; “They say that the golden path members are now running for it!”

Everyone in the cabin, including Ajay, was laughing now.

“Press it home! Send them another shell, fire!”

The cannon spewed fire and roared with another explosion as it spat another shell down it’s barrel.

This time the shell sheered the side off one of the buildings as it impacted into the stone, or concrete under the plaster.

Rather than penetrating a soft target and then destroying the building from the inside out, the shell exploded on impact with the new target and created a gaping hole.

Reeling from the tank shells the small garrison of golden path soldiers had now either been killed in the first explosion, the advancing soldiers’ fire, or was running to the hills, away from the road-block.

Pagan was cackling now, gleefully watching his men on the screen.

“Oh this is too much!” He finally announced impatiently.

To the back of the cabin beside the shell storage there was a green wooden box.

Lifting the lid off the box it revealed that the inside was filled with packing straw, and there was a long metal weapon poking out from under the layer of yellow, wiping the straw off and away from the gun Pagan lifted out a MG42, giggling and buzzing with excitement as he did so.

“Open the hatch Ajay!”

Turning his head away from his range finder Ajay saw what Pagan was holding.

“S-seriously?”

Pagan opened the receiver and carefully laid the first round of an ammo belt into the chamber, nodding wordlessly in response to Ajay.

Reaching upwards Ajay turned and unlocked the hatch before giving it a tough push.

Pagan cocked the MG and a round ejected onto the floor of the cabin, clanging metallically.

Hefting the gun upwards and flicking the safety, Pagan climbed upwards, his laughter was sounding maniacal.

When he came out the top of the tank some men further behind them cheered.

Waving to his men Pagan then yelled “Forwards!” and motioned his free hand, waving the men along.

The men behind them began a full scale advance and the tank’s engine roared as it began to move.

While it did the King began firing his weapon in short bursts past the buildings towards the running golden path members.

The cannon turned to lead some of the retreating men in the distance before firing again.

Flying past the men it impacted the ground and sent dirt and smoke high into the air, the men running adjusted their pathing and Pagan began sending streams of tracers in their direction.

 

Diving into a small drainage ditch a golden path member clutched his handheld radio tightly and tried to recover his breath.

“Sabal, come in over!”

The signal of his radio was weak and the voices and the movement of the royal troops was getting closer.

“Sabal… if you can hear me they are coming…”

“Darpan was wrong… they’re all coming… Pagan is with them. We couldn’t stop…”

The golden path member was cut off, a few feet away approaching the ditch were royal soldiers.

Lying prone the young golden path crawled his way into a wide culvert, water was a few inches deep and his front and legs were soaked but he had to finish his message.

Pulling himself into the darkness of the culvert he made sure his boots were not visible from the entrance and he held the radio microphone close to his mouth.

“We couldn’t stop them… they are too many…”

The black boots of a royal soldier splashed down into the ditch, the golden path member tried to stay quiet but he finished his sentence.

“…They are coming to Banapur…”

The soldier knelt down with his rifle raised, squinting to see into the dark of the culvert.

Seeing the form of a person the trooper began to yell, “Slowly! Move out of the drain!”

The golden path was breathing heavily, and thinking rapidly.

Beside the soldier a few others appeared, “What’s the situation?”

“Hostile in the drain, move slowly!”

The new soldiers all trained their eyes and weapons on the golden path member and continued, demanding he exit slowly.

Dropping his radio the golden path surreptitiously pulled his only weapon out; a grenade, and slowly complied with their order to exit the drain.

When he was slowly standing out of the culvert the lead soldier of the group nodded “Slowly, that’s it… slowly.”

Then he noticed the grenade being held to the man’s side, before they could react, the golden path member yelled while pressing the pin of the explosive.

His voice quavered at first but became resolute with the belief of an extremist:

“Long live free Kyrat!”

Simultaneously the soldiers all saw the grenade and each tried to turn away, or dive, from the man.

The grenade went off and sent one of the soldiers flying backwards, while the other two became rended by the shrapnel.

The golden path member’s arm and a large chunk of his abdomen were blown away and his body was limply thrown like a rag doll to the ground.

After the small explosion Pagan ceased his firing and looked to the side of the buildings to see smoke and dirt and debris around a small ditch, several soldiers were now running to the scene and Pagan’s inner commander was concerned as to what happened to his boys.

Poking his head back into the tank he yelled to Ajay, “Radio!”

Looking around the shelf beside the view screen and radio console Ajay searched for the handheld communicator.

“Here!” he said as he held the small black device to the King.

Clicking the ‘talk’ button down Pagan popped back out the tank and looked towards the men at the ditch.

“What was that? What hit us over there?”

“Grenade, Sir, golden path blew himself up.”

Shaking his head, Pagan seethed under his breath “Goddamn radicals…”

Clicking the button again the King continued, “Who is hurt? Do we have a medic there?”

The voice returned, “Yes majesty, medic is here, three were hit in the blast,” The soldier paused, and some indistinct talking could be heard on the other end. “They’re pretty roughed up…”

Pagan furrowed his brow and looked on in concern while the tank continued driving down the road.

“Medic says they’ll make it, over”

Pagan sighed with relief, “Good! Press the attack, all forces push past these buildings; we must keep on the golden path’s tail!”

The second hatch opened and tentatively Ajay poked his head out, he had his rifle and quietly nodded to Pagan.

“And get that shit out of the road!”

 


	5. Nerobefehl

“Sabal! They are coming!”

The Golden Path’s headquarters was a shambles; people were running to and fro carrying equipment, armaments, food stocks, and boxes of documents.

In the distance small arms fire could be heard in a poorly coordinated duet; outgoing bursts were intermittently responded to by incoming responses. Every few bursts were punctuated by a large explosion.

Sabal was in his office, which doubled as a command centre for the Golden Path and Amita was hanging in the doorway.

“Sabal!” She implored again.

He looked up as he nodded. “We knew this day might come…”

“Do the team leaders know where we’re to go?”

Amita clicked the safety on her rifle before adjusting its position on her sling.

“Yes… I think so…”

Sabal furrowed his brow.

“Sabal, we don’t have time for this! We need to finish the booby traps and get out of Kyrat!”

The male leader of the Golden Path yelled in frustration, “Even when the civil war was at its worst, Ghale never abandoned Kyrat!”

Amita face shook with emotion.

She took a few steps into the room, while urgency was on them all, and time was of the essence, she spoke quietly and slowly.

“If we wish to save Kyrat we must stay alive… The Golden Path must endure, and so long as one of us breathes the fire we inherited from Ghale will never go out.”

Sabal stood with his hands on the back of a rough wooden chair. And the words finally rang home.

His breathing was heavy, the adrenaline and the tense reality of the situation was bearing down on him heavily.

He nodded wordlessly.

Finally the great Sabal relented, and gave in.

“You’re right…”

He took a breath and straightened himself back up, “We must set an example.”

Amita curtly agreed, she looked to the desk of papers and took hold of Sabal’s pistol and handed it to her old comrade.

Leaving the building Sabal grabbed a bottle of petrol and ripped a section of cloth from a drape.

Descending the stairs first Amita waved her hand in the air in a circle, indicating she wanted people to form around her.

“Listen up!” She looked and made sure that she had people’s eyes and attention, “Everyone!”

Sabal looked on with approval from the top of his stairs, still preparing his Molotov cocktail.

“We all know that Pagan is coming… This attack was because of what we recently were able to do to his network… He is lashing out because of fear and weakness!”

The emaciated and fearful faces of the Golden Path supporters looked on with hopeful ignorance.

“This is not a defeat! We will come back from this as the Golden Path has always done.”

An uncharacteristic voice appeared, interrupting Amita’s speech, though neither her nor Sabal could see who’d spoken.

“Where are we to go?”

Amita turned around and she and Sabal shared a wordless conversation, “We have support for our cause in Bhutan to the South.”

There was a quiet groan from the crowd; it was the sound of defeat.

“We have prepared for this possibility! And many of our ex-patriot brothers and sisters will support our cause across the border!”

The assurance did not have the result that Amita had hoped.

“We will have supplies, munitions, and supporters waiting for us in the safety of our neighbour.”

As she took a breath another voice spoke up, “Pagan knows the King of Bhutan! You are leading us to death!”

A few voiced their agreement.

Sabal roared, “That is not true! We have done nothing but protect the true identity of Kyrat!”

“Among our number we count the Tarun Matara, the physical manifestation of Kyrat’s promise of glory!”

Some voices agreed, and while she was not partial to the religion of old Kyrat Amita knew that she and Sabal must present a united front.

“That is true! The glory of old Kyrat, and the promise of a new Kyrat are in us, and with us!”

Sabal nodded, “Pagan only holds the promise of death! Either quickly with a bullet, or slowly at the hands of De Pleur!”

A Golden Path member came from the side of the crowd and looked to Amita and Sabal, “The trucks are almost all ready…”

Sabal nodded, “We must endure my brothers, and my sisters. Kyrat shall dawn anew! And we shall be there to usher it in.”

Amita unslung her rifle and fired into the air, “Comrades! Kyrat forever!”

The crowd repeated the cry, but it was decidedly hollow, disingenuous.

Amita’s face twitched, “Where is Bhadra…” Pointing at one of her personal troops she issued an order; “Bring the girl with us, I want her in my truck and I want us down the road into Bhutan as soon as possible.”

The soldier nodded and whipped off in search of the child.

“With this fire!” Sabal lit his Molotov, “We consecrate our exodus!”

There were some cheers from the radical religious zealots Sabal had attracted, and the crowd cheered as he threw the bottle into the building.

The flames spread and quickly began to engulf the house from the inside out.

The thatch and dry wood were speedily consumed as the fire spread.

“Let’s go! Everyone is to go!”

Sabal leapt off his stairs and into the crowd.

Quickly the people all began going into different directions, some back into their homes, some towards the trucks, others began helping load vehicles and bicycles.

“Sabal! Sir, Pagan and his forces are less than twenty minutes away…”

Sabal’s face dropped, but he quickly put back on his mask of cool strength.

“Not to worry brother, we shall be away before then…”

There wasn’t the time. They needed an hour to fully get underway and close enough to the border.

Near him were a few troops looking around at the chaos of the people in the streets.

“You! Radioman,” Sabal waved his hand in a ‘come here’ motion and the trooper complied.

Taking hold of the communicator in the soldier’s back-pack Sabal dialed in the frequency of a few Golden Path groups.

“Group six, nine, and eleven. This is Sabal, over.”

Sabal walked with the radioman to the side of a building.

Eventually the leaders, or radiomen of the respective squads replied, “Yes sir” “We read you” and “Go ahead Sir”

“I will be quick… Banapur will fall, and the Golden Path will be extinguished, if you cannot hold Pagan back as long as possible. Your orders are: No retreat!”

The soldiers beside Sabal all became pale and wan at hearing his words.

“You will halt the Royal bastards and buy us the time to continue our fight another day…”

Sabal clicked off the communicator and took a breath before continuing.

“Kyrat needs your sacrifice today so that your children will have a tomorrow…”

Sabal’s eyes were wet now, “This will be my last order to you… Prolong the fight as much as you can. Every second is precious, and your lives will buy us absolution.”

The soldiers beside him quietly lowered their heads and all somberly agreed.

“Brothers good luck… We shall meet again in Shangri-La…”

He clicked off the radio and let go of the communicator.

Sabal didn’t wait for acknowledgement; he didn’t want to hear it.

Those men were all going to die, and Sabal didn’t want to hear anything about it.

“Load the trucks! Keep it moving people!”

-1

Meanwhile, in a tree covered gully a Golden Path squad leader sullenly returned his radio headset to the ground.

Beside him was an entrenched MG team and he patted both men on their backs.

“Keep it up my brothers! Sabal and all the Golden Path is counting on us!”

The men nodded and poured on suppressing fire towards Royal soldiers.

The squad leader stayed crouched and ran along the gully towards the small depot of ammo his team and set up.

He pointed at a young boy, he couldn’t have been more than fifteen. “Come! Boy, do you wish to save us all?”

The boy nodded, he was terrified, the whirring of bullets, the snapping, and hissing around them, coupled with the screams had nearly thrown the boy into shell shock.

But he stood firm, he needed to ‘do his part’.

The squad leader knelt and opened a crate, inside were these bulbous triangle like explosives with handles coming out the top.

“Here! Take a few of these and run them up to the men in the ditch a head just there!” The leader pointed towards the forward position that was drawing the most of the Royal forces fire.

“Hand them these and tell them they are for the tank…”

The boy nodded and took hold of several of the improvised AT-mines.

“Remember, boy, this is for free Kyrat!”

The kid nodded and held the explosives close to his chest as he made his way down the gully towards the small trench which would connect to the forward ditch.

-2

Far to the flank of this gully another squad leader threw his radio to the ground and had an utterly different reaction to Sabal’s orders.

“That incompetent swine!” the aged and gruff Golden Path member had been there since the beginning.

“Ghale would never have allowed us to be in this goddamn position!”

He shook with rage, “Damn him… Damn Sabal!”

The officer moved from behind the truck he’d been in cover of.

“Men! That’s it! They’ve left us all to die!”

He was very close to Pagan’s advancing forces; they were in a relatively open area of the province and almost all their cover was improvised; sandbags and fallen trees, dug slit-trenches, and foxholes. There was no natural cover for them to speak of.

The engagement they were in however had become protracted, and stale, though the Royals had the luxury of fresh and free flowing munitions.

The officer’s brow furrowed in anger now at his own troops, “Keep pouring that machine gun, and throw them some more mortars; we need to slow their advance to a crawl!”

A dark and dirty faced trooper responded from beside the officer behind a wall of sandbags, “Sir, we are out of mortar shells, I sent a runner back to bring us more.”

The officer shook his head, “You think he’s going to come back now?”

The dirty soldier’s eyes expressed his lack of knowledge.

“Keep firing! Anything! Everything! All we’ve got left!”

A few soldiers drew their pistols and checked their slides, then began firing their small calibres towards the enemy.

The rifles started back up and the MG team had to stop their fire to load a new belt.

The officer took out his binoculars and stood on a pile of unused sandbags.

Surveying the scene he could see many more Royals coming with the support of armoured technical trucks.

The trucks unloaded with red-beret wearing soldiers, and quickly the Golden Path position became subject to the heavy machine gun fire.

Ducking the officer maintained sight through his binoculars.

Then he saw a man he dreaded.

In full Royal uniform he saw a white man among the Asians, wearing a black flak-jacket, and sporting a heavy rifle in his hands the Golden Path officer seemingly locked eyes, hundreds of feet away, with none other than Paul ‘De Pleur’ Harmon.

Horror drenched the man, and he began whispering under his breath,

‘No… Not him…’

The officer dropped his binoculars and started to break.

“No…”

Unclicking his holster the officer drew his sidearm and spoke to the nearest soldier; saying his name.

“Batsa… You’re in command.”

A soldier beside the officer quickly looked up, “Sir!”

The officer shot himself in the head and limply fell down in a crumpled heap.

-3

The last squad received Sabal’s orders and the radioman who’d answered sat and shook, horrified at what he’d heard.

His squad leader had been rended open by a burst of machine gun fire from the tank, which was growing closer and closer, and now the motionless corpse laid beside the frightened radioman.

A few men eagerly looked towards him, hoping to hear any words of hope to alleviate their very bleak situation.

This was squad eleven; they were previously entrenched at the way-buildings, and saw firsthand the sweeping power of Pagan’s wrath.

Now they had retreated up the road and into the woods, their slight discipline had made them attempt to maintain a combat line as they retreated.

But most of their number had run off or were dead by now.

The few that remained huddled around this radioman, and close by in the bushes and treeline, sparingly returning fire to the advancing Royals.

Every few minutes a shell would explode either near them, or past them.

The oppression and terror of Pagan’s presence and the speed of his advancing troops was finally too much and the radioman broke down, “Fuck it! Run!”

Some of the men didn’t need to hear it twice; they dropped their rifles, threw off ammo slings, and to a man began to run as fast as they were able.

The radioman threw off his heavy equipment bag and began to dart in-between the trees as he and a few beside him began to climb in elevation.

Large balls of fire exploded near them and caused the radioman’s ears to bleed and ring loudly.

He staggered to the side and finally fell over clutching at his chest.

Sharp broken pieces of bark and wood had impaled themselves through his abdomen and chest.

The golden path soldier didn’t even feel them hit him; quietly he clutched at his necklace and without a breath died.

The few squad mates of his that survived the blast were swiftly cut down by small arms fire. Royal troops were now sweeping through the wooded area.

-4

It was less than half an hour later and Pagan’s forces were in sight of the Golden Path’s stronghold,

Banapur

Rather than his radio Pagan was holding his cellphone with one hand and his binoculars with the other.

“Paul?” He asked.

“Yes Paul! How are things on your side?”

The sound of small arms fire and a grenade cut off the response, a gruff noise later Paul replied;

“Things are just swell over here ‘majesty. How’s it on your side?”

Pagan laughed, “Oh Paul! Was that the pin trick you just did?”

There was a shamed pause before a relenting answer, “Yeah… it was.”

“Paul as much as I appreciate the creative ways you have of killing Golden Path, we are on a schedule, have you cleared your flank and are you in position?”

Paul moved the phone away and issued some orders in Cantonese to his men, “Yeah, no issues here Pagan we’re ready to go when you are.”

Pagan cooed, “Oh I love it when you white boys speak chinky to me…” then he punctuated the line with a loud cackle.

Paul laughed too, “You say that every time don’t you?”

The King sighed, “Paul sometimes I think you’re the only one who gets my humor…”

Lowering his binoculars Pagan surreptitiously stole a glance at Ajay, “Though… I may be wrong on that score…”

Placing the binoculars on the edge of the turret Pagan continued, “Any-who! I am going to begin shelling the shit out of the village, and then we’ll sweep and clear the remains?”

Paul laughed and affirmed, “Sounds good ‘majesty”

Smiling the King of Kyrat gleefully hung up his phone with a: “Ta-ta!”

Returning the phone to his pocket Pagan took a breath and turned back to Ajay.

“Ready?”

Ajay nodded. He was shaking from the excitement and the adrenaline.

Earlier he had shot at some of the golden path, the ‘terrorists’ these extremists that he knew next to nothing about.

And… he was fairly sure he had hit some of them.

He nodded again, “Yeah… Let’s do this…”

Pagan smiled before yelling downwards into the metal behemoth the stood in.

“Drop two points and load high explosive!”

He heard a voice respond and quickly the noises of compliance followed.

“Ajay? Would you like to give the order?”

The young man looked at his pseudo-father with surprise.

“Really?”

Pagan nodded proudly, “Of course, if you want you can even load it after.”

Ajay couldn’t help containing his smile. “Uh, fuck… Sure!”

The King counted down and held his hand up with his fingers outstretched;

‘Five’

‘Four’ Ajay exhaled.

‘Three’ taking in a breath the man waited,

‘Two’

‘One’ releasing his breath in his voice Ajay excitedly gave his first military order as he yelled, “Fire!”

The tank shook back as the cannon sent a shell flying upwards towards the plateau.

A tall building had been the target and the shell satisfactorily collided with its thin wall, traveling several more feet into the mass of structure before finally exploding.

The fire and blast shook and sent chunks of the building high into the air as Pagan’s troops cheered and roared.

Smacking his son’s shoulder Pagan quickly wrapped his arm around Ajay’s neck and brought him close.

“Look at it go my boy!”

Ajay’s eyes were wild as they watched the wood beams and debris fly everywhere.

Pagan was laughing with satisfaction, and soon Ajay realised he was too.

-7-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note:  
> If you guys have any suggestions, or ideas let me know, in the comments, or PM me. I’m hoping to do quite a few more chapters with this little story.  
> As always thank you for the support, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope I caught all the spelling issues and so on.  
> Lots of love!  
> VV


	6. The Siege

Pagan and his forces pounded the town with consistent small arms, mortar, and tank fire, from a distance for almost half an hour before taking a momentary break in their salvos.

“Cease fire!” Pagan ordered. “All forces cease fire!”

He repeated the order into the tank’s radio and it amplified his voice through the speakers mounted on the outside of the armour. At the sound of the King’s command, there were sporadic sounds of the small arms quieting and ending all along their front.

When the last bullet was fired and all the royal troops held their positions, an eerie quiet swept into the valley, but it was only for a moment…

After the ringing from the gunfire dissipated in Ajay’s ears the wind rolling down from the plateau Banapur was on carried the faint sounds of yelling and the wails and cries of its injured and dying occupants.

Pagan sneered and squinted up the hill and road, eyeing something intensely. His concern grew and he took hold of his binoculars again and began to survey the plateau.

A ragged person was limping down the unpaved road…

From the dirt splattered on them, the plainness of their tattered clothing, their dirty mid-length black hair covered their face, and even though he had the binoculars Pagan couldn’t tell if it were a man or woman…

But he could see a white cloth in their hand.

The person staggered and held their side with one hand while they stopped and waved the cloth in the air with the other. Pagan could see them open their mouth and yell.

Resuming their slow pace the person kept moving down the road waving their cloth and yelling.

As if on cue a voice crackled on the radio; “Want do you want us to do sir?”

Pagan lowered the binoculars and made a loud ‘hmm’ before taking hold of the transmitter.

“Fire a shot at their feet… Get them to stop moving, and then make sure they’re unarmed…”

He paused and looked towards Ajay.

“What do you think?” The King asked, raising an eyebrow and pouting quizzically as he awaited a response.

Ajay stuttered as he tripped over his thoughts.

“Oh… uh…well, like… It doesn’t seem like it’s really worth the risk?”

Pagan nodded, “so just shoot them from here and move in?”

Ajay cringed and took a sharp breath.

“What would be the problem with that Ajay?”

Ajay knew that Pagan was testing him, by Pagan’s tone of voice he could tell that Pagan already knew…

“The problem would be in dealing with the rest of the villagers… and potential combatants still up there.”

The King nodded.

“But at the same time” Ajay continued, “the risk is all on your men having to get that close to a potential guerilla…”

The radio crackled; “You majesty? Are you still there?”

“Yes hang on lads…” He looked back up at Ajay, “Your call my boy.”

Ajay looked away from the king towards the dirt road and the small figure still making their way down the path.

‘What if they’re innocent and caught in the crossfire?’ he thought, ‘What if they’ve never done anything bad!’

His mind raced, and so many different thoughts and emotions crossed him.

“G-get them to stop moving… then, then send a few to make sure they’re unarmed…”

Pagan sharply exhaled, “Done!”

Holding down the transmitter he relayed the order; “Fire a warning shot, halt their movement, then move in and capture. Understood?”

There was a pause and static before the response, “Roger, wilco.”

To their side, down the line of infantry sporadically positioned along the field, a few of the men collected themselves and began moving towards the path.

They kept their rifles leveled and they moved with a slight spring in their step.

There were three troopers moving down the road and Ajay held his breath as he and Pagan watched the men get closer to the person coming down the plateau.

The radio crackled with the squad leaders communicating with each other.

“Watch him, watch it… Keep eyes on the hills.”

“…easy on that, have the LMGs ready to open on any muzzle flashes…”

The men were now slowing their pace and they were loudly communicating with the surrendering person.

Tensely Ajay squinted to watch the men.

The injured person descended to their knees and held their arms out to either side as the soldiers got closer.

The troops inspected the person and then one of them turned around to wave to the tank. Then he held up his hands and did a few non-verbal signals using his arms.

“What’s he saying?” Ajay piped up in curiosity.

Pagan smirked as he responded, keeping his eyes still on the men down the road. “It seems that they’re a golden path member who’s had it… looks like they’re licked…”

Grabbing his cell phone Pagan dialed and began calling someone. After just a few rings the person he was calling picked up.

“Yes Paul? Begin moving up on your flank, seems like they’ve surrendered… Ha! Yes, yes... I know… See you up there!”

Returning the phone to his pocket Pagan took a breath and nodded.

“Here we go.”

-1-

After his order the whole attack force began moving forwards and the resistance was practically non-existent when Pagan’s infantry began entering the town.

At first the men were wary and eyed every building, window, crate, alley, and corner with suspicion. They’d had too many experiences with the Golden Path’s ambush tactics to let their guards down now, especially under the direct command of their King…

But, the town was almost completely abandoned; very few people had been left behind by the Golden Path. The few there were, were deserters, the severely injured, the sick, and the young…

The crackling of fires continued and rubble was smoking as the Royal troops began combing the streets and entering the buildings that still stood.

The tank rolled up the hill cautiously. Ajay and Pagan looked side to side constantly, just in case one of the Golden Path had remained to try and become a ‘hero’.

Before the town was cleared Pagan ordered the driver to halt the tank at the main entrance, Pagan wanted to get close… but not so close as to get shot in the face, or blown up.

As his men moved past the armour and up the stone steps of the tiered town Pagan leaned over the side of his hatch and waved over one of his officers.

“Captain,” Pagan called, still waving his hand, “I want you to pull everyone still alive into the town square.”

The Captain nodded, “Is that wise your majesty?” He raised his eyebrows and pointed towards Ajay, who was looking away from them and watching the troops entering a building to their left.

Pagan turned slightly following the Captain’s eyes. He waved his hand and scoffed, “oh don’t worry he’s on the level… The boy’s on our side.”

The Captain took a deep breath through his nose, “Isn’t he Ghale’s son?”

Pagan raised an eyebrow and forced a laugh, “Come now Captain… he’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re going to be lining them up and shooting them all! Ha ha!”

The Captain furrowed his brow, confused, “W-were not?”

Pagan stopped laughing and leaned closer to the man, “No we’re not you idiot! Do you think I want him to see that? No, we’re not losing our victory now by killing defeated prisoners…”

The Captain nodded. Pagan turned to smile assuringly at Ajay who hadn’t heard anything they’d said so far.

When Pagan returned to the Captain he whispered, “We can do that later…”

The Captain saluted and nodded, “Bring the survivors into the town square, orders understood your majesty.”

Pagan nodded and returned the salute.

-2-

The ‘occupation’ went off without a hitch. And when Paul arrived with his forces, the end of Golden Path strength in Kyrat had been ensured…

It was over.

When the last of the survivors had been dragged into the square of the town the soldiers all positioned themselves in various ways.

Many of them kept their eyes and weapons trained on the group of bloodied and broken people on their knees in the open centre of the town.

Some of them were raiding buildings; collecting anything of military value… some were also committing regular plunder, but… That was the way of war.

The officers though stood in a staggered line, leaning against a half wall opposite the town square, they watched the peopled before them but, they knew that none of them were going to try anything.

The people just didn’t have it in them… The soldiers could see it on their faces; they were bruised, bloody, tired, scared, hungry… They were staring at a defeated populace.

And so the Captain finally gave Pagan the all-clear.

-3-

“Come on my boy, we’re going to go give a speech to the enemy!” Pagan announced.

Putting his hands on either side of the hatch Pagan hoisted himself up and out of the tank and Ajay reluctantly followed suit.

“R-really? Are they sure it’s safe?”

Pagan smiled, “oh of course not! There’s always the unexpected, but one can’t hide away forever.” The king poignantly sighed, “I learned that the hard way…”

He paused as he waited for Ajay to exit the tank as well, and then when he was sitting on the roof of the turret Pagan continued, “Come on! It’ll be fun!”

The two men jumped off the armour and the Captain closely guarded his king.

In face several soldiers immediately jumped towards Pagan, shielding him and Ajay with their bodies as the entourage began to climb the stone step platforms towards the town square.

The relatively silent group of survivors began to whisper at the approach of the entourage, and they got louder until finally, when Pagan could be seen, the survivors all quieted and sat in terrified silence.

Rounding the corner of a building Paul ‘De Pleur’ Harmon and his men entered into the square as well.

“Ha ha!” The Caucasian laughed loudly. “There you are you royal bastard!”

Pagan laughed and then the two men strode towards each other before embracing in a hug.

“You finally did it Pagan! We’ve got them now!”

Pagan nodded and then broke off the hug to look over the defeated prisoners.

Paul then patted Pagan on the back and passed beside him holding out his hand towards Ajay. Out of reflex the bewildered young man returned the greeting and extended his own hand towards Paul.

Firmly taking hold of Ajay’s hand Paul began shaking it while smiling. His expression was warm, and the whole interaction oozed excessive familiarity. Ajay cringed, but politely returned the smile.

“I’m so glad you’re on our side kid, And I know I speak for Pagan when I say this: You made the right choice.”

Pagan looked away from the prisoners and nodded to Ajay.

Paul let go of Ajay’s hand and continued, “Cause… Pagan, me, Yuma… we’re the good guys. We’re trying to get this country,”

He pointed to the kneeling prisoners, “These people… We’re trying to get them on the right track. Turn this whole place around…”

Pagan nodded at everything Paul had said.

“so… what…” Ajay paused and looked at the kneeling people, he grew cold and his heart felt tense. His legs shook quietly, and he could feel anxiety in his fingers. “What’ll happen to them?”

He didn’t dare think about it… But, he saw all the royal troops around them, all the guns, everything was starting to add up badly…

Pagan looked at Ajay, and then he turned to look at Paul.

Paul shrugged his shoulders and looked from Pagan to Ajay.

“Well… that’s up to the king, kid… They are traitors after all…”

Ajay involuntarily scoffed, “W-wait, you’re not going to shoot them all are you?”

Pagan was quiet.

Paul pursed his lips and furrowed his wrinkled brow.

“Pagan… wait a second here…” Ajay began.

The king raised his hand, “Just a moment my boy…”

He turned around and looked at the small collection of survivors.

There were maybe thirty in total.

Men, women, some children, some old…

But they all had the same expressions: fear, hunger, exhaustion…

They weren’t Golden Path, they weren’t believers… They were left behind, or had deserted.

These were peasants…

These were people who could not go on anymore, or just were too tired to fight anything or anyone anymore…

Pagan cleared his throat quietly and raised his voice.

“My wayward people…” he began, “It’s been a long time since you were under the jurisdiction of your King…”

Beside him one of the troops began translating into Nepalese everything that Pagan was saying.

“It’s been a long time since some of you knew peace…” he looked at the elderly amongst them forced to their knees. Then he looked at the several children clinging closely to some of the adult women, and some of the elderly.

“Some of you have never known peace…”

Very few of the prisoners actually wore anything close to military fatigues or Golden Path equipment. And as Ajay listened he looked over the people and all he could see were local clothes.

The people were almost all dressed in civilian garb, many were injured and bleeding through their clothing, some could barely stay upright as they listened and stared at Pagan, or his soldiers.

‘These were not enemy fighters… these were, these were just people!’ Ajay thought.

“To those among you who are tired of fighting, to those of you, who wish to surrender…”

Pagan pointed towards the young man being held standing by a royal soldier, it was the one who came down the plateau with the white cloth.

“He risked his life to spare this town from destruction… I was prepared to continue shooting until this whole place was leveled and the Golden Path was extinguished under the rubble of Banapur, but that man saved you all…”

Pagan began pacing side to side looking at the people, “Though I must admit, I didn’t believe Sabal would have abandoned this place, I thought he and the Golden Path was going to go down swinging!”

He took a breath, “It looks like I was wrong. Sabal and his lackeys abandoned you!”

Pagan furrowed his brow in disbelief as he continued, “What kind of leader abandons, women, children, the weak, and the sick?”

He looked over the peopled and many of them lowered their eyes.

Many of them must have been believers in Sabal… They all had of supported the Golden Path. But right now, Pagan was right.

They had been abandoned, and they were all left at the mercy of King Pagan Min…

Pagan took a deep breath.

“Sabal and his Golden Path have left you… They escaped through the pass and are heading over the border as I speak, yes?”

It was rhetorical, of course he already knew… but the people began quietly nodding. Several of them started to sob; they were scared of whatever was to come… They were scared from all the stories they had heard…

They were awaiting the order from Pagan that his men were to fire.

Pagan extended his arms widely and walked closely to the crowd. A few men, including Pagan’s Captain, moved and wanted to stop him.

Wordlessly Pagan told them off and the men backed down, moving back to their previous positions.

“I will never abandon you.”

Pagan stood and kept his arms outstretched. He exhaled and touched his chest and then continued. “A king is like a father, and his people are like his children.”

The people looked to each other meekly, unsure and apprehensive.

“To those who supported the Golden Path, it is over… They are done…” the people started looking up at Pagan as he took a few more steps towards them. He looked at several of them in the eye and pointed, “To you, and you, and you. The war is over.”

He raised his voice and continued, “The fighting is over! All you need do is surrender…”

He took a step back and lowered his arms.

“To those who wish to surrender stand up and step forwards.”

A quiet moment passed before a woman stood, her young children clung to her legs and she took a few tearful steps forwards.

Pagan smiled and waved his hands, “Come now, there’s no need for tears!”

The woman barely could look at him she was so scared, but she eventually got closer.

He pointed to a few soldiers, and then spoke in Cantonese.

The soldiers slung their rifles on their shoulders and took their water canteens off their belts before walking towards the woman and escorting her to the side of the square.

They gave the water to her and her children and the rest of the people in the square eyed them with disbelief.

A few more people stood and walked forwards.

Then a few more…

“I extend clemency to all of you who swear to put this disloyalty aside… Each of you who gives up their support of the Golden Path shall receive water… You shall be fed, you shall be clothed! Banapur will be rebuilt, and you will be protected by your King.”

Several of the elderly were helped up by either their neighbours or their grandchildren, then some soldiers stepped forwards to assist them out of the square and towards some chairs set up near one of the entrances to the area.

Soldiers were handing out rations and their canteens while royal medics began attending to the injured.

Ajay couldn’t believe what he was witnessing.

Eventually all but three young men and one young woman had stood and ‘surrendered’.

Pagan nodded to his men and they started to move the surrendered people out of the town, Ajay could hear the sound of trucks and vehicles outside the square.

The surrendered people were led out of the town and the soldiers helped to load them into the backs of the covered military transports.

“Now… you four…” Pagan smiled, “Were you true believers? Did you get left behind on purpose?”

His voice was mocking tone.

“Did Sabal give you an important mission? The foolish zealot probably ordered you to blow yourselves up…”

One of the men winced and Pagan immediately descended on him.

“Oh? Your useless Sabal told you all to stay? Why? Maybe because he felt you were replaceable… Disposable… Unnecessary…”

The woman among them began to sob and cry quietly.

Paul smiled; even the men were teetering on the edge of breaking down.

“Why do you remain kneeling?”

Pagan leaned away from his current target.

“Why don’t you stand? Hmm?”

A voice began to speak up and Pagan moved towards the man.

“We… we will not be lured by false promises to only be shot in a ditch…”

Pagan’s eyebrow rose and his voice tsk-ed. “Ah that’s where you’re wrong… Those people are being driven out of here and towards the nearest outpost. They’ll be given warm food and places to sleep… They’ll be watched over by my men, and soon they’ll be free to live…”

He knelt towards the man, “You however…”

Pagan audibly sighed, “Paul what do you think? Should we send them to Yuma and Durgesh?”

Paul took a step forward and laughed, “Maybe? Though if they knew anything useful Sabal and his boys wouldn’t have left them behind,”

Pagan pouted comically as he silently agreed.

“Or we could just shoot them and save the gas?” Paul patted his pistol and stepped closer.

A few men cocked their own pistols and moved.

One of the men started sobbing loudly, and the woman was now bawling.

Ajay shook his head.

‘No, I can’t let this happen!’

Pagan rose back up and reached into his military style jacket, he took hold of his own gun and brought it out.

“Wait!” Ajay announced. “You don’t have to do this!”

Pagan and Paul looked at Ajay with quizzical expressions.

“I don’t?” Pagan repeated, then he looked at Paul, and Paul laughed slightly. “Why don’t I Ajay?”

Ajay looked away from Pagan and towards the kneeling former Golden Path members.

Their red, bloodshot eyes stared back at him.

“Why don’t you surrender?” Ajay asked, “Give up, it’s over!” He repeated.

“Come on, Pagan… You don’t have to do this, they’re beaten…”

One of the men leapt towards Pagan’s feet, “He’s right! Please King Min! Spare me!”

The woman was crying and shaking so much she couldn’t manage words but she held her hands clasped together above her head.

Another man remained silent and stared at the ground.

“What would you have me do Ajay?”

Ajay exhaled a heavy breath as he looked at the man groveling at Pagan’s feet and the woman catatonically praying.

“Let them…” He cleared his throat and raised his voice, “Let them go…”

Pagan pointed at the man at his feet and the woman.

“These two?” He asked.

Ajay nodded.

“Paul, do you know these four?”

Paul took several steps around and looked closely at each of the four’s faces.

“Yeah… I do recognise a couple.”

“And? How innocent are they?”

Paul looked at Ajay, “I hate to break it to you kid… but… There’s a reason these four didn’t surrender already…”

Ajay furrowed his brow in confusion.

“I… I don’t understand…”

Pagan nodded to Paul.

“You see… there was a raid on a prison camp not that long ago, and they sprung a lot of captured Golden Path guerrillas…”

Paul pointed with his pistol, “Each one of these people was there… Now I only recognise three but I bet that fourth one there, the quiet one, I bet he was there too…”

Ajay looked at them as his concern grew.

“The point is kid… they already had their chance before… and…” he laughed awkwardly, “They turned us down…”

Ajay looked at Pagan, “How did you know?”

Pagan shook his head and walked away from the kneeling prisoners, kicking the grovelling man’s hands away from him as he did.

“I didn’t until Paul said so…”

Ajay shook his head.

“Wait… you’re not going to shoot them like this are you?”

Pagan looked away from Ajay to his captain.

“Are the trucks away?”

He nodded, “Yes sir, they’re on their way to the nearest supply dump. My men are on it.”

Pagan then turned back to Ajay. “I don’t want you to see anything that you can’t handle. But Ajay… these are bad people.”

Paul nodded, and vocalised his support, “Remember kid, we’re the good guys here.”

Ajay looked at the kneeling people in the square and he felt his heartbeat increase.

Pagan put his hand on his shoulder and nodded, “Paul’s right Ajay…”

“…look kid they started this war, not us…”

“This is their doing…”

“We tried before…”

“They’re terrorists…”

“They’re the enemy”

“Hostiles”

“They killed innocents…”

Ajay shut his eyes and took a step back from Pagan’s touch involuntarily. His ears started ringing and he couldn’t hear anyone’s voice anymore. Everything seemed out of balance and really loud. He couldn’t concentrate and he felt like he dropped backwards.

But something held him up, and then… with sobering clarity he heard Pagan’s voice.

“Ajay… these are the same kind of people who helped murder your sister…”

Pagan was holding Ajay by both his arms and keeping him from falling backwards. When he opened his eyes he saw Pagan offer a pained smile to him.

Ajay felt his lip shake and his eyes felt dry.

“Leave this… come on my boy… We’ll let Paul take care of it.”

Pagan nodded to Paul before stepping beside Ajay and wrapping his arm around his shoulder, the king’s voice was quiet and soft. It was comfortingly paternalistic; “We’ll go back to the tank and we’ll…” but Ajay interrupted.

“No”

Pagan looked at him quietly.

“No…” Ajay repeated.

Pagan withdrew his arm from around Ajay’s shoulder and he stepped back.

Ajay turned back to face the kneeling prisoners.

Paul had a plain and unreadable expression across his features as Ajay walked towards him. Without saying anything Paul nodded and offered Ajay his sidearm.

Pagan raised his head and looked on silently.

Ajay knew what this was even if he wasn’t completely aware of it…

He knew what was happening though he couldn’t articulate it.

Taking Paul’s pistol he flicked off the safety and checked the slide and chamber ensuring it was loaded.

Ajay looked at each of the kneeling prisoners tensely and quietly. Their cries had quieted to whimpers, and they seemed entirely resigned to their fates.

Without any more words, or any fanfare Ajay raised Paul’s pistol and began to fire…

The first two died wordlessly and without noise.

The woman though, began to cry and bawl again… and Ajay hesitated.

Paul walked towards him knowingly and stood beside him. “You don’t have to kid…”

Ajay nodded and he noticed that he had a few tears coming down his cheek.

The last man, the quiet one, looked at his deceased comrades and then up at Ajay and Paul. Before anyone could react he spat at them and then revealed that he was hiding a gun under his knees…

Time slowed for Ajay as he and Paul both made the realisation.

The man attempted to level the pistol in Pagan’s direction, behind Paul and Ajay, but quickly Ajay and several of the royal troop onlookers began to fire.

The woman was hit in the crossfire and the man was shot several times and from so many angles that he died before his body even touched the ground.

Ajay stood and shook as his face became pale.

Paul yelled at the men before taking his pistol back from Ajay. “What the hell! How long did you pat them down you idiots! The king could have been killed!”

Before he really lost it a voice boomed in the square, “Calm down Paul!” Pagan roared. Walking towards a frozen still Ajay he then lowered his voice and got close, “Are you okay my boy?”

Ajay wordlessly nodded.

Pagan closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Ajay’s.

His voice was breathless and wavered with emotion and pride, “You’re one of us now…” Pagan let out a laugh as he repeated himself, “You’re one of us my boy…”

Ajay closed his eyes and listened to the noises around him.

Fire crackled mutely, the wind blew calmly, and material flapped and moved as the breeze carried it. Banapur was finally theirs, and the Golden Path had fled the country. It was near the end…

Before his thoughts continued though Ajay was pulled back to ground by a pat on his back.

“Well kid! You’re on the right side now, no doubt about that.”

Pagan’s voice sounded slightly irritated, “Yes thank you for that Paul…”

Ajay opened his eyes and Pagan stepped away from him. The king took a deep breath and nodded as they shared a wordless conversation.

‘You’re one of us now…’


	7. One of Us

Yuma Lau stepped into a darkened room within the Royal Fortress, the few stern looking men sitting in the room stood at attention as soon as they saw their superior.

“Sit. Sit down.”

She waved them down and the men proceeded to sit back down in their metal foldable chairs.

Standing before the men Yuma took a deep breath and broke the quiet,

“You men are probably wondering why you’re not accompanying King Min or the combined Army and Guard forces currently en route to Banapur.”

The men shuffled and lowly mumbled their agreement.

“King Min has approved many simultaneous operations to be carried out today, and I have personally selected each of you for this assignment.”

She nodded to a soldier at the back of the room who turned on a projector.

“Your mission, called ‘Operation: Spring, Search, and Seize’ will, as the name implies, require you to locate, destroy, or otherwise neutralise enemy equipment caches as well as key Golden Path affiliates.”

On cue the soldier near the back of the room clicked on the laptop attached to the projector and a map appeared against the wall beside Yuma.

She began to point at it, “Here are the three main sites that you’ll be dealing with.”

The sites were each given the labeled names; ‘Juliet’ ‘Kilo’ and ‘Lima’.

“We expect sporadic defenses across the province. Due to the surprise we expect to have, the Golden Path will not have time to mobilise an adequate response to the army’s presence.”

She smiled sadistically.

“You will then have all the opportunity needed to wreak as much havoc on their already subsistence logistics.”

“If possible you may mark the caches for pick-up via coloured flares, and after radioing in the status of each respective location we will see if any retrieval teams are available for seizure and allocate them as possible.”

“You men will be transported via two helicopters to the AO and then proceed on foot in two four-man fire teams.”

Yuma pointed to the table behind her and indicated the eight sheets laid out on its surface.

“The division of the teams and specific details of the operation have been printed on those Intel packets, familiarise yourself with them after requisitioning your equipment from the armoury.”

The slide changed and Yuma’s body language changed; she visibly became tenser and her voice wavered with aggression.

“Now, while you are in the area another main objective will be to kill or capture the following persons.”

The photo on the wall was that of a muscly African man holding aloft what appeared to be a bible.

“Known in Kyrat as Longinus, his real name is Prosper Kouassi.”

She narrowed her eyes as she continued, “He’s a former African warlord, and he has been identified as the Golden Path’s most recent and most important supplier of arms and equipment.”

The slide changed to that of an aerial surveillance photo.

“He’s known to smuggle weapons and contraband across the borders from both India and Bhutan.”

Yuma took a breath and her voice changed to reflect her slightly ill mood.

“I would prefer if he was taken alive… If he could be handed over to De Pleur this Kouassi could prove to be an invaluable source of intelligence.”

The slide changed to one taken by Longinus himself: It was a selfie of him lying on top of an olive green crate of munitions while holding a rocket propelled grenade launcher.

She looked over her men sternly, “Be very cautious… Consider him both armed and extremely dangerous. He’ll put up a fight if confronted, but remember that he lacks the formal training you have all received.”

Yuma rolled her shoulders and stood straight with pride, “You also will have the advantage of numbers.”

The slide changed again.

It now displayed a selfie of a large Caucasian man smiling next to an unconscious and tied up Royal Guard officer.

Yuma held back a growl as she looked at the image.

“This… idiot… is Hurk Drubman; an American collaborator of the Golden Path and an all-round nuisance. He has recently succeeded in hampering our efforts to win hearts and minds…”

There was some mumbling among the soldiers.

Yuma sneered and addressed the distracted whispers, “This unrest has gone on too long!”

She took a few steps towards the men.

Pointing towards the absurd picture on the wall she began to speak.

“This shit is on his twitter account!”

The men looked down and each flinched under the un-breaking gaze of Yuma.

“And despite our best efforts the Golden Path has succeeded in maintaining positive support using the internet and strategies like this.” She took a breath through her nose and immediately regained her composure.

“For every stride we make in bringing water, food, and stability to the rural population an idiot like this helps to quickly undo our work.”

She stood back, “This shows us as incompetent, and it shows that openly working against our government is not only ‘okay’ but funny!”

The soldiers nodded in agreement.

Pausing Yuma looked over the troops silently before giving her order; “He is to be shot on sight.”

A few men shifted in their seats while the majority quietly agreed.

“While this Hurk is an idiot he is nothing but resourceful, he’s killed many Royal Army troops and has succeeded in assassinating several of our officers on orders and for payment from the Golden Path.”

The slide changed back to the map of Southern Kyrat.

“Make no mistake; we will finish this rebellion today.”

“But your mission will help to ensure that the roots of the Golden Path dry up and wither for once and for all.”

“It has taken months of work to be able to finally get this Intel, and some of our spies in the Golden Path have even paid the ultimate price.”

The men sat quietly, each of them had a stoic and resolute expression.

“Do not let your comrade’s deaths be in vain.”

Yuma raised her hand up in a salute and the men all stood from their chairs again.

When each of them was at attention she finished the salute and spoke again, “Good luck men. I look forward to seeing you all back here tonight.”

The men unanimously responded; “Yes Ma’am!” as Yuma strode towards the door and left the room.

-1-

The two choppers carried their passengers over the advancing column of trucks leaving the Royal Fortress below them.

One of the men tapped his companion and pointed out the open door of their helicopter towards the column.

“Look! It’s the king!”

Even though they were climbing higher and higher they could easily spot Pagan Min’s bright hair poking out of the top of his rumbling tank.

The two men laughed as they watched the tank and the trucks behind it get smaller and smaller.

Their commanding officer sat opposite them behind the pilot’s chair.

He roared above the noise of the engines to his two subordinates, “Close that goddamn door! We’re heading to the red-zone!”

The men looked at their newly assigned officer and sniggered.

Before the officer could say anything further a thermal wind gust came up under the helicopter and pitched them to the side.

Thankfully the men were all wearing their belts and even the soldier closest to the door safely remained inside the cabin.

Their un-stowed equipment however?

Two large military duffle bags filled with their additional kit slid towards the open door of the helicopter and weightlessly flew out the angled side of the vehicle.

Each of the men watching voiced a different noise of protest and some even futilely tried to reach for the straps of the fast moving bags.

As the pilot leveled the helicopter out and they stabilised the soldier closest to the door took hold of the handle and brought it shut.

The officer shook his head from side to side, speechless.

The rest of the ride was awkwardly quiet, and these highly trained, professional, commandos kept completely mum until they finally reached their landing zone.

Nearly twenty minutes passed until the officer finally broke the silence.

“We’ll be fine without the bags… We still have our weapons, and we’ve got our radios.”

He nodded at his men, “Yuma doesn’t need to know about this.”

The three soldiers each nodded to their commander.

The red light on the inside of the cabin flashed on and the men each took a breath.

“Check your shit, and get ready!” The officer announced.

The helicopter began lowering itself over a small wooded area in the Kyrati lowlands.

As the men unclipped themselves from their seats they then got their descending ropes ready.

As the red light changed to green the men hooked onto the roof of the helicopter and opened both doors of the cabin.

The four men then descended two and two on either side, simultaneously, while not too far away the second helicopter had lowered and its passengers were doing the same.

When the two teams were away the helicopters hovered for a few minutes and then cleared out of the airspace.

The two black hawks then headed back to the Royal Fortress.

“Okay men, safeties off, watch your selves… This is Golden Path territory…”

The two squads then began trekking on foot to their respective objectives and in about ten minutes of hoofing it cross-country Alpha squad was approaching their target ‘Juliet’.

Juliet was located in a grid square a few miles south east from the town Banapur, from the surveillance photos the cache was located in a small farmhouse close to a natural crystal spring.

“This is going to be a real shit manhunt in my opinion…” One soldier announced.

A couple of his comrades laughed and their CO quickly silenced them. Before the soldier could begin showing his discontentment they heard Kyrati spoken close by.

“Ahead… there… are they Golden Path?” The CO asked.

The soldiers stayed low and moved through the underbrush until they had clear views of the speaking men.

One of the Royal troops nodded to the CO and tried to keep his voice as low as possible, “Yeah… but what the hell are they doing?”

The men ahead were dressed in the faded blue work clothes that had become the informal uniform of Golden Path members. Along their backs were slung Kalashnikovs and they were tipping the contents of a barrel into a large spring which slowly flowed out of a low standing rock formation.

The CO eyed them cautiously.

‘What the hell are the doing?’

“Are we going to engage sir?”

The CO shook his head, “Not yet… we don’t know how many there are…”

He turned away from the opening in their foliage cover.

“I want you to wheel around the left flank, get a good angle on them and see if you can see the farmhouse from here.”

Pointing to another of his men he continued, “I want you to take the right and see if you can get some elevation, get them into a good kill zone.”

Turning to the fourth member of the fire team the officer ended, “Lastly I want you to draw your kukri and wait here with me.”

“After they get to their positions you and I will advance on the two visible targets and take them down silently.”

The fourth member nodded before holstering his rifle.

“When we get them from behind that’ll be your signal to open up on any others, understood?”

The men all nodded and before the two flankers moved they all said in hushed unison “For the King!”

-2-

“Just drink some water, here take this.” Paul had given Pagan his canteen and now the monarch was rubbing Ajay’s shoulder while helping him.

“You’re strong Ajay…”

The young man took a big gulp and then inhaled a deep breath.

He laughed tiredly, “I don’t feel all that strong right now…”

Turning his head slightly Ajay could see the booted feet of the two men he had just shot.

Pagan immediately moved and crouched in front of the sitting Ajay.

“Don’t look at them my boy, look at me. It’s alright. You did well…”

Ajay nodded and took another deep breath.

“Paul?” Pagan looked up and nodded to indicate the executed Golden Path.

Without another word Paul nodded and understood.

Walking away from the corner of the square that Ajay and Pagan were in Paul pointed to a few of the Royal troops and began speaking.

“You men clear these bodies out.”

Paul put his hands on his hips as he looked around the devastated town.

“I want the bodies of all the dead taken out of here. Down the slope we’re going to make graves.”

Paul looked to Pagan.

Breaking his attention away from Ajay, the King wordlessly nodded.

“Kings orders men! I want names on the graves if possible. Come on now, let’s move!”

Ajay took another drink and shook his head, slapping his own cheeks lightly to stay present.

“Whew… Alright…”

Pagan’s face earnestly expressed his concern but Ajay tried to push his emotions out of the moment.

Clearing his throat Ajay took on a professional tone, “What now?” he asked.

Like he’d done this before…

Pagan smiled slightly as they both stood back up.

“There’s going to be a radio broadcast, and then we’ll do a live address from the field of battle.”

Ajay’s mouth opened in disbelief, “Seriously?”

Pagan smiled “Oh yes.”

“The only way the people will believe that it is finally over is if we show it to them.”

He chuckled lowly, “Then I should expect rejoicing across the nation; from the Sleeping Saints in the south all the way to Utkarsh in the north. Every hamlet and every village in between will be breathing a sigh of relief I should expect.”

Pagan let out a breath. “Ah… and then they’ll be seeing their neighbours and loved ones returning.”

The king wistfully looked upwards and made a comical exaggeration as he shook his hands in front of him before loudly clapping.

“Gary!” he roared.

It was so loud that Ajay spilled some of the water from the canteen onto his face.

“Where’s my Gary? I need you to make me look battle worn!”

Brushing past Ajay Pagan moved towards one of the military technical vehicles. Popping out of the window of a red truck a dishevelled man in an oversized uniform responded. “I’m h-here your majesty.”

Pagan held out his arms happily upon seeing his aid-de-camp.

“Gary! Okay we’re going to be doing a TV broadcast and I need you to make me look… hmm” he paused, “Regal and rugged? Like we just fought tooth and nail!”

The small Kyrati man, strangely named Gary, nodded as he opened the door and dismounted from the safety of the vehicle.

“A-are you sure it’s safe sir?”

Pagan sighed, “Oh yes… Now come on, you’re such an old lady.”

The small, dark skinned, Kyrati made his way to the king and Pagan stood and puffed his chest out while closing his eyes.

“Now what do I need to look convincing?”

Gary tentatively looked around the area expecting to be shot at; Pagan though his eyes were closed knew exactly what Gary was doing.

“Gary… you’re fine, they wouldn’t be shooting at you anyway.”

Gary snapped his attention back to Pagan, “S-so sorry majesty!”

“Anything you need to do Gary, you know I’m not too squeamish.”

Gary nodded, “well, this always makes for a compelling image…”

Ajay looked on in interest at the two men in front of him. From their body language and the tone of their voices Pagan and Gary had known each other for years.

But it was strange; while Pagan was very friendly with Paul, and it was obvious that those two were quite close, the way Pagan talked to Gary?

The King was quite different, far more intimate even…

Stooping to the ground Gary took a hold of some dust and then stepped back from Pagan.

“Close your eyes and cover your mouth sir!”

Pagan cringed aloud but complied.

Throwing his handful of dirt and rocks at Pagan’s chest a cloud of the debris hit him and covered his previously immaculate uniform in grit.

Gary then took another handful and got closer to the king, he proceeded to rub his hand on a few spots sporadically across Pagan’s front.

“Okay…” he said quietly, the signal that Pagan could open his eyes again.

He huffed, “Really? Was the mud necessary?”

Gary nodded, “Mm, the bandage on your nose is also perfect.”

“Now…” his voice went low as he approached the King, “I have to ruffle your hair…”

Pagan grunted loudly until it climbed into a small roar. Through gritted teeth he finally acquiesced, “Fine…”

Though he had to stand on his tip toes to reach Pagan’s head, the small Kyrati; with surgical precision, used the tips of his fingers and pulled up and moved Pagan’s hair in several key spots. When Gary was done he nodded and stepped back from the King.

“Oh yes… That looks brilliant.”

When Gary stepped out of the way he looked at Ajay to see his reaction to the king’s new battle worn appearance.

The previously immaculate Pagan was now marred by dirt and his face and some grime on it, his hair was dishevelled and added to the rugged, manly, appearance that he was going for.

But the nose bandage was what sealed it…

The white surgical bandage had some dark red spots of dried blood which had seeped through and gave Pagan the last accent he needed to complete his look of a warrior-king.

“Woah…” Ajay remarked.

“Ha!” turning back to his aid-de-camp Pagan nodded, “Gary get the signal corps equipment, and tell them to set up just outside of Banapur. I want the town in the shot. I want the soldiers in the shot; I want the tank in the shot… Get them to… Oh they know what they’re doing.”

Gary nodded as he made his way towards some troops standing near one of the larger transport trucks.

Pagan pointed to the square behind Ajay and indicated he was to turn around.

Paul was overseeing several soldiers assembling something. Ajay was interested and asked the obvious. “What are they building?”

“A flag pole,” Pagan smiled as he made his way towards the men, “Nothing says we won like putting up a flag!”

Ajay nodded.

Paul looked away from the men and greeted Ajay and Pagan with a smile, he cleared his throat and began speaking, “Well your majesty, are we going to send a force into Bhutan after Sabal and Amita?”

Pagan huffed.

“They’ve still got the girl… We couldn’t find her, alive or dead…”

Pagan quietly put his hands on his hips and kicked a rock, “Goddamn it…” His voice turned serious and low. “How the hell did they manage their escape so quickly?”

Paul shrugged and squinted at Pagan, “The mole maybe? You know Yuma is still convinced I didn’t get them all…”

Pagan waved his hand. “Bah… She’s paranoid. She gives me shit for staying in the Palace, but she’s been up in those mountains far too often. She still gives me grief I didn’t kill Amita when we last had the chance…”

Paul avoided getting into a discussion about his fellow Governor and furrowed his brow, staying on topic, “We’ll get her, Amita, and Sabal… And we’ll get the girl…”

Ajay started to walk closer and Paul glanced at him momentarily, wordlessly concerned, his eyes and body language asked Pagan if the kid should be hearing this.

“Don’t worry about him Paul…”

“But Pagan…”

Turning to welcome Ajay to the conversation Pagan touched his arm.

“What are you guys talking about?” The young man asked obliviously.

“I was hoping to find somebody here… But Amita and Sabal, they took her with them.”

Paul nodded and sighed while interrupting, “In any case would you like me to call the King of Bhutan?”

Pagan shook his head, “No, I will. You call our Ambassador in Bhutan… And Nepal…”

Paul nodded and pulled out his phone.

Ajay’s previous unease had been replaced, he felt listless… He wanted to help. Like they said, he was part of this now… Paul had even said that Ajay was now on their team. And the young man hadn’t let a team down yet, and he wasn’t about to start.

His voice came out clearly and with confidence, “Who’s the person you were looking for?”

Pagan sighed, “A girl. Her name is Bhadra…”

Then Pagan stopped and looked at Ajay.

The king smirked and smacked Ajay’s shoulder, “What’s with this? Feeling better now?”

Ajay nodded, “I just want to be useful, and like you guys have said, I’m with you.”

Pagan smiled and looked at Paul, “Do you hear that? You old worry wart…”

Ajay smirked and asked his question again, “So who’s Bhadra? Is she like one of their leaders?”

Pagan shook his head, “No, no…” He paused, “Do you know the Dali Lama?”

Ajay nodded and furrowed his brow incredulously.

Pagan held up his hands, “Hang on, it’s related.”

“In Kyrat, there is a religious position very similar to that of the Dali Lama. It’s called the ‘Tarun Matara’”

He coughed and cleared his throat, “There are some theological differences of course but the main difference is that the Tarun Matara is a woman, or in this case a girl.”

Pagan smiled and raised an eyebrow, “You’ll be interested to note that your mother Ishwari was chosen as a Tarun Matara…”

Ajay shook his head, “wait what?”

Pagan laughed, “Oh yes… That’s even why Mohan pursued her.”

“The Tarun Matara is the representation of the Kyrati principal goddess on Earth…” Pagan sighed, “She really was a goddess to me…”

He looked at Ajay and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

“Did she keep it up?”

Ajay smiled and took a moment to think about his mom, before answering.

“She was… the, the kindest, gentlest woman I’ve ever known.”

He couldn’t think of her having been the Kyrati equivalent to the Dali Lama but… She always was a very caring and charitable person…

Pagan smiled painfully, “That sounds like her alright…”

A quiet moment passed and Pagan shook his head, “Anyway, Sabal had gotten the monks to proclaim this Bhadra as the next Tarun Matara.”

He groaned, “Unfortunately this of course means that we need to get her into our custody, for obvious reasons.”

Ajay nodded, “Right.”

“Bhadra is the last piece that Sabal and Amita have on their side.”

Paul pressed his finger to his phone’s screen and was beginning to bring it to his ear.

Looking away from Ajay, Pagan continued, “Paul, make sure that our men in Bhutan know that we need the girl alive.” Paul nodded as the phone rang.

Suddenly Pagan continued, having remembered his ‘man on the inside’.

“Oh! And try to contact our agent in the Golden Path. Tell them to execute ‘Operation: Abdicate’.”

Paul started talking and he walked away from Pagan and Ajay to focus his attention on the call.

“Ambassador please, it’s urgent, thanks…”

Ajay furrowed his brow, “The US doesn’t have official diplomatic status with Kyrat… But these other countries do?”

Pagan huffed, “Well, sort of… We maintain just a few that are important. Specifically Nepal, Bhutan… India we have a somewhat special relationship…”

He laughed, “But we don’t exactly have the budget or political capital for an expansive diplomatic corps.”

Pagan’s voice changed and sounded much more optimistic, “Maybe if this the country becomes more stable, then…” He smiled. The soldiers in front of them had finally finished assembling the metal flagpole.

From one of the men’s uniforms they produced a Kyrati flag as well as the royal standard.

The men attached the two flags to the top of the pole and then the men braced themselves and counted, “One Two Three!” Soon the great flag of the Royalist Kyrat was flying high and proudly above Banapur.

“Then maybe we’ll be able to really change things here…”

Pagan shook his head after watching the flag rising, “Anyway, what were we talking about?”

Before Ajay could respond the King announced, “Ah yes! You being useful…”

Ajay nodded.

“Well… ha, first I’ll need your help for this broadcast.” Pagan began walking from the square and down the road, “Follow me.”


	8. The Royal Address

“The following is an emergency broadcast from the Ministry of Social Harmony.”

The radio crackled a moment and then the familiar female host of the Kyrati state radio came on, she sounded out of breath and absolutely ecstatic as she tried to stay calm and deliver her bulletin.

“T-today our glorious King, Pagan Min, has dealt the Golden Path a c-crushing blow!”

The sound of shuffling papers brushed the microphone as she moved in her seat.

“Our King has led the Royal Army personally into battle! And I have in my possession news directly from the front.”

She picked up a paper filled with her own hand written notes, adjusting her glasses she cleared her throat and began.

Her usual voice was replaced by one filled with resentment and hatred, “Earlier today the son of the traitorous dog Mohan Ghale returned to our glorious kingdom.”

Then as fast as it came she quickly changed her tone back to her manically enthusiastic self, “Ajay Ghale, is the epitome of a true Kyrati!”

“The young Ajay returned to Kyrat, having grown up knowing nothing of his parents past he has remained pure of heart! Proving this purity and fidelity the young Ajay dutifully returned the ashes of his mother Ishwari, the previous Tarun Matara.”

The radio host became sullen and emotional at the next line, “It was her dying wish to be reunited with Kyrat and Pagan’s light.”

She took a breath and continued enthusiastically, “Our benevolent King of course welcomed Ajay Ghale, absolving the young man. The King himself has declared, and I quote! ‘The sins of the father are not those of the son!’”

The host swallowed and nodded emphatically, “How true… and how great that Ajay Ghale has joined forces with our King.”

“Our reporter in the field was able to ask the young Ghale what he thought about the Golden Paths’ decision to destroy our beloved homeland. And the young Ajay had these words to share.”

The transmission suddenly came on with Ajay’s voice; he sounded flustered and just before the recording began the state reporter attached to the army had eagerly pounced on him for the following quote and soundbite.

“Uh… the Golden Path, well… Kyrat is beautiful and… it could be so much better if they just surrendered. I mean, it’s hurting everyone in the long run if this unrest keeps up… I’ve seen so much so far that has been the Golden Path’s fault.”

Ajay laughed uncomfortably, “I mean… if Pagan and the army hadn’t stopped my bus the Golden Path was going to kidnap me.”

The transmission came back to the female host and she adjusted her glasses before continuing.

“Despite a lifetime away from his homeland, the young Ajay has been blessed with Pagan’s light!”

She turned her page audibly.

“And it is true! Had our great armed forces not been so steady in their defence of our borders the poor wayward son of Ishwari would have been abducted, most hideously, by Amita and Sabal’s dogs!”

She cleared her throat and now began reading the report given to her from the state military correspondent.

“The assault began shortly after the young Ghale personally swore his loyalty to our King. Then like the mighty lion we know him to be, Pagan led our forces to swift victory on the field of battle.”

Her voice cracked but she continued, “Terai province, an area of our country that has long been sullied by the presence of the Golden Path, shall be shadowed no more! Our glorious armed forces have liberated the town and freed its oppressed peoples.”

She immediately became sullen again.

“Those poor souls, who have long been kept in bondage by the traitors Sabal, Amita, and their Golden Path dogs, can now experience the freedom that only Pagan’s light can bring them.”

The host now resumed her encouraged and pleased voice.

“The flag of a united Kyrat now flies proudly over Banapur. And though Sabal and Amita fled the country, their departure represents the victory that our King has long promised us.”

The woman’s voice was now reaching a crescendo, “To usher in this victory and begin a new chapter in our history our great King will address the whole nation! Live from the field of battle, Pagan Min’s broadcast will be made both on television as well as radio.”

She took a second to catch her breath, “In just a few short moments the King will address us, his loyal subjects!”

-1-

Leaning away from his small portable Sony radio a soldier yelled to his comrades, “Turn on the TV, the King’s about to speak!”

His fellow soldiers were relaxing in a barracks, but when he yelled the command each man dropped what they were doing and jumped to huddle around the small screen that they had in their common area.

Farmers tilling the expansive tea fields south of the Kyra Tea Factory halted what they were doing and stood quietly beside a large battery operate radio. They held their tools tightly in their dirty and tired hands as they listened intently to the broadcast.

Citizens in their homes in Utkarsh and throughout the hamlets and scattered villages of Kyrat gathered around their televisions or their radios as they were able. Each on the edge of their seat, waiting.

For many of them, this was the most important national event in their lives. The promise of peace…

Was the war really over?

Most couldn’t believe it, many were skeptical of the state radio broadcasts…

Many mothers of royal soldiers knew that they never reported their defeats accurately; casualties were never reported at their real times, and any setbacks the army had suffered were repainted with whatever the propaganda department chose to do.

Sometimes they did give the truth, but after nearly thirty years of guerrilla warfare, most of the average Kyrati population knew that the army wasn’t invincible and that it had been slowly turning into a war of attrition.

They were skeptical that it was ever even possible that either side was going to win.

It was often said that the Royal army never was able to successfully occupy the southern lowland provinces, and that the Golden Path could never mobilise the same amount of support amongst the average people as they once could.

But the overall fatigue was palpable, and… it was not in favour of Sabal and Amita’s terrorist organisation.

The people; the farmers, the teamsters, the weavers, the factory workers… They didn’t like Min sure, they didn’t like the Royal Army kicking in doors and sometimes confiscating material for ‘the war effort’.

But Pagan Min was on their money.

Pagan was their king for better or for worse. His government had stability to it… Or at least it had the semblance of stability.

The Golden Path however?

In the last few years their power and control had been waning, and it had become common knowledge that their two leaders were barely staying together…

It was also a great rumor that the Golden Path was being funded and supplied by a western country.

For the farmers in their fields, many believed that it purely because of foreign influence that they were still even around to begin with…

King Min, the Governors Lau, Harmon, and Najjar… to the average people they might not have been ideal rulers. But they weren’t the ones sending people on suicide missions… They did not argue for active martyrdom…

There were elements that merely followed or supported the Golden Path because they had the Tarun Matara and the silent blessings of the religious orders.

But that was not genuine support. It was true that many Kyrati wished to see the return of a living Tarun Matara.

It was a strange inclination… But the Kyrati people truly preferred the devil they knew then the ones they didn’t.

And if the King was about to seriously announce it; if they could see Pagan Min physically out there on the battlefield, then maybe… it really was true and the war was finally over.

-2-

“Do you have the tank in the frame?”

“Yes your majesty!”

Pagan nodded, “And the flag, can they see it?”

The signal corpsman nodded, “Yes your majesty!”

Pagan sighed and moved his weight from side to side.

“Gary, Ajay, Paul. How do I look?”

All three started responding at the same time in a poorly timed chorus, “Oh great!” “Yeah no you look good.” “You look sharp.”

Pagan nodded and exhaled “whew… Okay…”

“We go live in twenty!” The cameraman stood by his tripod and waited as the directing signalman began counting down.

Pagan’s eyes shot open as a royal soldier got closer to the small area.

“You Soldier! Give me your rifle!”

The solider furrowed his brow in surprise but immediately complied with the order.

The director continued counting down as Pagan hastily slung the weapon over his shoulder as a prop.

Paul smiled and Gary nodded as he whispered “Brilliant your majesty.”

Ajay couldn’t help but stand in awe as Pagan prepared to speak.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven”

“Good luck sir!” Paul spoke, “You’ll kill it!” Gary enthusiastically added.

The director counted silently from five and then zero. They were now live.

Pagan adjusted the strap of the rifle and took a second of silence before beginning.

“Good people of Kyrat. You will all be delighted to know that we have indeed crushed the remaining strength of the Golden Path.”

Pagan smiled, “I know… this is not the site of your King that you are all used to. But! Kyrat demands of us all dedicated service… Victory comes at a price.”

He took in a breath and wordlessly nodded.

“I know many of you grieve. Many have shed blood. Many have lost loved ones.”

Pagan tensed and held silent for a moment, “I have lost loved ones. I have bled…”

Then he shook his head, “But I do not ask for accolades! I expect no applause. I did this because I have a vision for our Kyrat. Our _United_ Kyrat”

He brought his hand towards his face and adjusted his fringe.

“As you may have heard I lead our forces into battle… But I was not alone! My trusted general Paul De Pleur was at my side, as well as a lost son of Kyrat; Ajay Ghale.”

He looked out of frame towards Ajay as he spoke. Smiling Pagan nodded to Ajay and Paul before returning his gaze to the camera.

“Ajay returned to help our glorious struggle and help he has!”

“Our great force has liberate Banapur and sent the remnants of the Golden Path scattered to the winds.”

“My loving people, you may now know, it is over.”

He paused for a moment silent.

“Yes I know… you can scarcely believe it but it is true. The civil war is over. I hereby declare peace in Kyrat.”

Soldiers above the hill in Banapur watching the broadcast or listening to it began to fire in jubilation.

Pagan laughed heartily and turned around to look up the hill at the gunfire.

“Yes! The war is over and we may all rejoice!”

Everyone was smiling as they watched Pagan. Even Ajay was smiling and felt excited.

“Now the final victory is not yet achieved, but it is within our grasp!”

Pagan brought his hand up as he spoke and made a dramatic display using his open hand closing into a fist.

“That being said, I immediately authorise the full scale rebuilding of our country. All those wayward sons and daughters of Kyrat who wish to do so must surrender. I shall be merciful and grant clemency to all those who remain in Kyrat…”

“We shall put this behind us and move, _forward._ ”

Pagan smiled and pointed at the camera. “Change is coming to Kyrat. And Change? Is, good!”

“Though we are small we possess strength my dear people. And we shall use this strength! Kyrat shall rise above these ashes and we shall be reborn, becoming more glorious than ever before!”

“My good people… Never forget that I, Yuma Lau, Paul De Pleur, Dr. Noore Najjar, and now the young Ajay Ghale will not cease in our efforts for a greater Kyrat!”

“Thank you…”

Pagan smiled at the camera and then the director yelled, “Cut! That’s it, we’re out!”

Everyone began cheering and clapping as they moved forward to surround Pagan.

Ajay hooted and clapped along, smiling widely and shaking slightly.

His heart pounded loudly in his chest in excitement. Not only had he been hooked on Pagan’s every word, but after hearing his own name being spoken on live TV addressed to the whole country made him absolutely weak in the knees.

The whole experience continued to push his abilities to handle the anxiety, the stress, and the absolute excitement of it all.

-3-

Getting further away from Banapur Amita punched the dash of the truck she was in.

Currently her transport was moving quickly towards their last ditch fallback position, a small abandoned series of warehouses just a few miles over the Bhutan-Kyrat border.

She and Sabal had argued over her use of their money and gold they had to buy off Bhutan authorities, but she was glad that she had made the decision.

They’d have a place to regroup and come up with a plan.

But after that broadcast…

If their organisation was on the rocks before, then they were definitely in their last days now.

As the radio broadcast finished Amita turned the radio off before the cabin could be filled with the sycophantic voice of the state media.

The truck was quiet except for the noise of the engine and the wheels below.

Amita had to be mindful of all the men and women sitting just behind the cabin of the truck in covered cargo bed.

But she wanted to scream.

Bhadra sat in between Amita on the passenger side of the truck and one of Amita’s loyal female soldiers who was driving.

The young girl held her tongue, but after a few minutes of silence she finally spoke up, quietly.

“What are we going to do Amita?”

The female leader looked out her side window and shrugged her shoulders. For the first time in her life Amita didn’t have any hope.

She had always been a rock… but now? The woman was cracking.

“A-Amita?” Bhadra asked.

When she turned to face the young girl Amita’s eyes were filled with rage. She was tearing up and her sclera was bloodshot.

“Keep silent girl…”

Bhadra’s heart sank and she shrunk in her seat.

“Dhriti… we’re going to be on the road for many hours… Wake me when we get to the warehouses.”

The female soldier nodded as she continued to follow the truck in front.

After a few minutes of quiet driving Dhriti reached into her pocket, her phone was buzzing and she’d received several text messages at once.

Though she was driving she was more concerned with her passengers beside her.

“Fuck…” Dhriti whispered under her breath.

‘Now?’ she asked herself, ‘Why now damn it…’

Bhadra looked straight out the windshield and sat pensively, digging her finger nails into the palms of her hands.

Carefully Dhriti unlocked her phone to quickly read the messages.

‘Dhriti my sweetheart, Family has a message for you, and this comes from mother and father! We hope that you and little sister will be able to come home. We love you, and we hope that you come back soon.’

Dhriti smirked.

All her messages from command had been coded the same way.

Family was the Royal Guard, of which Dhriti was a member, and in fact she had been trained by Yuma herself…

Mother and Father referred to her two commanders, Pagan and Yuma, and little sister was her target.

Bhadra

In all correspondence she gave updates on ‘little sister’ as well as any and all major movements of the Golden Path that she could.

Dhriti had been instrumental in helping erode the Golden Path to its current place.

‘I can’t wait that this shit is finally going to be over.’ She thought. ‘I’ll be able to take a break from this country, get away from these freezing mountains, and see somewhere beautiful!’

She couldn’t help but lick her lips and wistfully daydream about somewhere tropical…

‘Where would I go first? Pagan’ll pay me millions for all I’ve done!’ She held back a smile. ‘Maybe I’d go to the Caribbean? Or! Oh! Italy; Mediterranean islands, warm sun, wine, tanned Italian guys!’

She coughed to hide an involuntary giggle.

The whole time that Amita had been listening to Pagan’s speech, she got angrier and angrier, but Dhriti was doing everything she could from celebrating with glee.

She struggled to contain herself, but she had passed yet another test.

Amita _still_ suspected nothing…

Sabal never looked twice at Dhriti, the other Golden Path never suspected her, and Bhadra…

Dhriti laughed internally, ‘So close… I’m so close to the end of this.’

Bhadra looked away from the windshield and stared at Dhriti.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the small girl move. Returning her phone to her pocket she looked to her side briefly.

While her true allegiances were to the crown she still had to keep up her act.

She wasn’t allowed to be Ugyen Khadka, a victorious and intrepid member of the Royal Guard…

She had to maintain, just for a little bit longer, the identity of Dhriti, a zealous Golden Path disciple of Amita.

“It’s okay Bhadra… we’ll come back from this…”

The young girl didn’t acknowledge the statement.

Bhadra looked at Amita and nudged her. She stirred and moved but remained asleep. Then Bhadra looked back at Dhriti and she spoke lowly.

“You’ll take me with you please?”

Dhriti furrowed her brow, “I… what? What are you talking about?”

Bhadra looked behind her through the small window into the cargo bed.

“Everyone was talking about desertion before we left and now… Especially after that…” Bhadra pointed at the radio.

Dhriti was conflicted.

She had worried about whether or not Bhadra would be willing to leave the Golden Path, but now… Since Bhadra had come to her first.

Dhriti was worrying about whether or not the child was playing her…

‘Let her down lightly… now’s not the time, I’ll have to wait until night… maybe.’

Using her carefully cultivated tone Dhriti played innocent as she spoke, “Bhadra I haven’t any intention of abandoning Amita or-“

Bhadra shook her head, “Stop…”

Dhriti held her breath and quieted.

“I’ve read your phone before… Was that them?” she looked at Amita tensely, then looked back at Dhriti “Was that…” she stopped.

Her shoulders shook; she just couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Dhriti kept her eyes on the road, and maintained a stoic face.

Bhadra’s voice quavered but she began speaking quickly, “I’ve never known anything but the Golden Path… Maybe…” she now whispered barely audible, “Maybe the other side isn’t that bad.”

She looked at Dhriti and touched her arm, tears forming in her eyes.

“Please… even if you aren’t one of them… I know you want to leave… everyone should. It really is over…”

She shook her head from side to side, doing everything she could to keep her sobs under control, “You’ve got to take me with you…”

Dhriti could hear Yuma in the back of her mind. Everything in her training was telling her to remain mum… It seemed like a lifetime ago when she was first sent on her mission.

-4-

“Ugyen they will try to get you at all times to reveal who you really are…”

Yuma relaxed and leaned backwards in her chair.

“The natural inclination when playing a role is to finally reveal who you truly are.” She tapped her pen on her desk. “This is the trouble you’ll have in maintaining.”

She smiled and dropped the pen, “But that’s why I selected you.”

Now she stood and leaned closer towards Ugyen.

“I know you won’t let me down.”

The lightly tanned Ugyen nodded emphatically.

Yuma looked over her shoulder at Min’s portrait on the wall of her office. “I know you wouldn’t let the King down either.”

Ugyen nodded again.

She’d been specifically training for this assignment with Yuma one on one for weeks…

She saluted, “I would die before I let you down Ma’am!”

Yuma smirked and stepped back behind her desk, “I know…”

-5-

Even though she hadn’t seen her in so long, Ugyen’s fear and respect of Yuma was still the greatest source of strength she had left and she continued to repeat her commander’s voice until finally she spoke out loud.

“Bhadra… My family does want me to return but… I pledged myself to Amita’s service.”

She stared forwards, “I cannot abandon her in her hour of need.”

Bhadra stared down Dhriti for several minutes, until finally she was convinced. Her expression changed dejectedly as she finally came to believe that Dhriti was telling the truth.

“That means…” She looked to her side at the sleeping Amita. “Please… don’t tell her.”

Dhriti shook her head, “It is okay sister… Everyone has doubts… I will say nothing to no one.”

Bhadra looked at Dhriti earnestly, tears flowing down her flushed red cheeks. “T-thank you…”

Dhriti smiled and a few seconds passed.

“Don’t worry about it.”


	9. Tying Loose Ends

“Shuffle over shuffle over!” Pagan happily directed everyone with his hand as he adjusted his camera on one of the signal corps tripods. “Perfect! Hold it!”

Pressing down the shutter button Pagan jumped in front of the camera and moved to the spot in the centre of the mass of men.

Almost all the soldiers who had taken part were lined up in three rows like a school class photo.

Ajay, Paul, Gary, Pagan, the tank crew, the members of the signal corps, the infantry, the officers and even the state reporter attached to the outfit, each smiled heartily as they stood still for the photo.

The camera flashed and then they all cheered as they broke formation.

Turning to face his group Pagan laughed and smiled, “Men… I cannot stress it enough just how proud you have made me… I salute you all.”

The soldiers cheered and clapped and hugged one another.

Ajay walked up to his host and smiled, “So, what now?”

Pagan looked up at the sky; the sun was beginning to go down over the mountains.

“Now we head back to the palace and begin our party!”

Paul swiped through his phone before looking up at the king, “Yuma texted me that her men have located Prosper, and that they’re close to getting Hurk.”

Pagan smiled and sighed, “Oh… divine…”

Paul looked back down, he’d received another text.

“She also says that her agent has responded to her message and that Bhadra is in fact still alive…”

Paul stepped closer and showed Pagan the screen. Looking back up at Ajay Pagan smacked his adopted son’s shoulder and laughed.

“It’s all coming together Ajay!”

The young man nodded. He couldn’t help but feel excited, he really felt in it now.

He was immersed. He was growing attached to everything around him.

Kyrat, he felt, was enchanting him.

“So, at this party…” He eagerly asked. “We’re going to get shitfaced right?”

Pagan looked at Paul and then back at the kid.

“Ha! Did you hear that Paul?”

Paul put his phone away and folded his arms, “Kid, you think you can take me?”

Pagan leaned forwards, “Paul is the resident drinking champion of Kyrat.”

He sniggered, “he’s put us Asians to shame so far Ajay. You’re going to have to show him up I swear.”

Ajay smirked, “Well I don’t know, but none of my friends could keep up with me back home.”

Pagan comically made his lips round and exclaimed a loud ‘Ooo’ sound.

“Alright kid! You’re on.” Paul held out his hand and Ajay quickly shook it.

“It’s decided then!” Pagan announced.

Walking to one of the lightly armoured trucks the king mounted and continued speaking, “Fireworks, booze, girls,” he coughed comically and spoke in a hushed voice, “cocaine.”

Ajay and Paul followed him into the vehicle and the engine started up as they took their seats.

“We are going to get fucked up my friends…”

Pagan stretched out and unbuttoned his now dirty jacket.

Ajay nodded along and looked at Paul who was sitting opposite him.

“We’re not driving back to the palace are we?”

Pagan furrowed his brow and immediately responded, “Oh god no… We’ll drive to the nearest fort, Paul’s, it’s just north of Tirtha.”

Paul nodded, “Then we’ll get on my helicopter there and fly north.”

Ajay looked at Pagan quizzically.

“I know what I said about helicopters… but I swear if I have to drive across the length and breadth of the whole country again, we’ll never get to that bloody party.”

Ajay laughed.

Pagan raised his eyebrows and Ajay put up his hands in defense; “I’m sorry, but that’s just funny.”

Pagan leaned back and smiled quietly. Sitting down and shifting in his seat, Paul chuckled as well.

Outside they heard a ‘pang’ against the metal side of the truck and then they each looked over and watched as Gary attempted to lift himself into the truck. The small, tanned, aid-de-camp acknowledged the trucks’ passengers with an out of breath “Hello” before continuing, “Majesty most of the soldiers have loaded the captured equipment and they have finished sweeping the town.”

Pagan nodded.

“Several squads will stay and begin repairs while garrisoning the town. The rest of our men will be redeployed at various nearby outposts while we rotate our active servicemen.”

Paul interjected, “The civilians who have been evacuated, are they getting what they need? I’ve got a stockpile of some Red Cross shit in Tirtha.

Gary stuttered, “I, I don’t really know what they need but I’m sure the people would be appreciative to see the foreign aid.”

Paul looked at Pagan and the king nodded.

“Send it,” he cleared his throat, “if we want to coast off this victory we’re going to need to win the hearts and minds of the people at every turn.”

Paul turned back to Gary, “I’ll make a couple calls.”

“That’ll certainly help sway the people, I think.”

Ajay leaned backwards and sighed as the truck became quiet. Except for Paul clicking on his phone and the yelling of the men outside it was kind of peaceful.

But Gary was awkwardly hanging in-between the opening of the truck and the covered back.

Pagan opened his eyes and broke the uncomfortable silence, “What is it Gary?”

The aid’s face looked momentarily flustered and he then shook his head “N-nothing your Majesty!”

Pagan narrowed his eyes and tried to read Gary’s face, silently the two communicated to each other with wordless expressions. At the end Pagan’s brow raised in surprise and he slowly smiled.

After having seemingly delivered his cryptic message Gary nodded and looked out of the truck, “We’ll be on our way shortly gentlemen.”

Dropping down from the back of the truck Gary loudly patted the side of the armour while he made his way to the cab of the vehicle. Opening the passenger door he lifted himself up and sat inside the armoured cabin.

-1-

In his small mobile camp Longinus sat and was finishing a prayer when his phone went off. Under his breath he began to mumble an apology as his concentration was broken. “Oh! No, no I am so sorry Lord… I thought I had it on silent…”

He cringed and quickly crossed himself three times before standing and picking his phone off the nearby table.

Looking at the cracked glass screen he saw that the number was unlisted and the contact id was blocked.

There was only one person he knew that contacted him like this…

‘Now? Of all times?’ he thought.

Unlocking the phone he brought it to his ear and confidently greeted the only person who it could have been; “Hello Mr. Huntley.”

The American on the other end made a hollow false laugh, “I didn’t know guardian angels provided caller id.”

Longinus smirked and sighed. “What is it you want to sell me this time Mr. Huntley?”

“Short and to the point I like that… No superfluous questions, Goddamn I would have loved to work with you when you were operating in Africa, would have made some of those proxy wars much easier let me tell you.”

Longinus huffed and took a few steps out of his camp.

“Mr. Huntley please, I am no mood for your stories.”

The line went quiet.

Willis Huntley was very rarely given attitude, but he swallowed his pride and continued.

“We’re pulling out of Kyrat… It looks like it’s over for the Golden Path and Pagan’s forces are going to secure the country.”

Longinus furrowed his brow in disbelief.

“No… No, that is not possible! I saw the return of Ghale!”

Willis mumbled in agreement, “Yeah… Well it looks like Ajay Ghale joined the other side this time around.”

Longinus sunk lowly and sat onto the wet grass.

“I’ve been ordered by my section chief to get rid of our involvement, so as a courtesy I’ve been told to offer you a generous severance pack.”

Longinus shook with laughter. “Mr. Huntley where are you right now? I doubt I will ever see you again to receive this pack.”

“Where I am isn’t important, but, you are right about never seeing me again…”

He sighed, “The pack is a large suitcase of dollars and a special transit visa backed by the US government… I can get it to you but…”

Longinus raised an eyebrow, willingly taking the bait. “But?” he repeated.

“I’ve recently received intel from a source in the Royal Guard that Yuma has personally ordered her boys to find you and capture you.”

Longinus jumped to his feet.

“If you are captured well… we never worked together, I was never in Kyrat, and we never met. Understand? Actually, I feel kind of bad for screwing over a holy man, but hey that’s politics!”

Willis laughed and there was a loud electronic tone which beeped twice on the call.

Longinus ran into his camp and began moving things around. “What was that?” he asked futilely.

A woman’s voice then came on the line, “I’d thank you Huntley but… I do despise you to the core.”

Huntley smiled quietly before speaking back up, “Longinus I’m sorry but Yuma’s been listening in the whole time. She’s got a message for you and I’d get off the hook if I arranged this, so as the romantics say: ciao!”

The CIA agent departed the call and now Longinus was speaking with the Dragon of Durgesh herself: Yuma Lau.

After a tense second of silent disbelief Longinus heard her voice again.

“Prosper Kouassi; I am prepared to offer you a golden opportunity.”

Longinus stood frozen and silent; she even knew his previous identity?

He was in disbelief that his otherwise beautiful day had so swiftly been ruined by just a simple phone call.

Yuma huffed audibly, “Are you there?”

Finally the holy man got the courage necessary to speak, “Y-you are the devil…”

The Cantonese woman laughed and spoke off the line in her native tongue, “I’ve been called many things Prosper; you’re not all that original you know.”

Before she could continue he interrupted and loudly yelled down the phone, “I will die before I make a deal with you, or Pagan, or anyone else like you!”

Yuma paused and waited till he was finished.

“You and your ilk are the evil associates of Lucifer! Polluting the world merely with your sinful presence…”

Longinus began breathing rapidly as he paced his small home.

“Be careful making statements like that.” Her tone changed and she noticeably revealed her annoyance, “We can very easily have it arranged.”

Longinus threw the phone onto his table and he quickly began arming himself.

Strapping belts of ammunition across his chest, stuffing loaded pistol magazines into his trousers’ pockets, he prepared himself for battle.

Then he picked the phone back up.

“Listen to me you Dragon from hell… You will never take me alive. I will kill all your men you send to me!”

Yuma let out a frustrated breath, “Prosper, all we want is information. Then we will let you go, and you can go wherever you want in the world.”

Longinus shook his head, “This is my calling. My mission is to spread the word here in Kyrat.”

He laughed, “I am to fight against you and injustice and evil wherever I first find it!”

Yuma was quiet for several seconds.

“Are you quite sure you want to go down this road?”

Longinus stood up straight and held the phone away from his ear, “I am!”

“I will personally send you to-“

His voice was cut off by a single bullet.

-2-

A 7.62 by 54 millimetres round, rather ironically, passed through Longinus’ temple. The force of the impact blew the frontal plate of bone open and caused the top of Longinus’ face to come off.

Though he’d been shot in the head before, when it comes to injuries like that the second one usually finishes the job…

His body reacted to the shot and flew to the side spastically.

Though he’d prepared for combat after hearing the force in his voice, the zealous belief he had in his abilities… Yuma had no intention of putting her men in harm’s way for potential information.

While she spoke with him and he confirmed his willingness to fight no matter what, Yuma radioed her men with the signal to take him out.

Huntley, reacting from the news that Pagan was actually finishing off the remainder of the Golden Path, reached out to Yuma and offered giving up Longinus’ location, the locations of additional caches across the lowlands of the country, and the names of potential Golden Path agents in the highlands, in return for his own life…

Though she’d wanted Huntley dead for a while, the promise of getting rid of Longinus and the remainder of the arms and ammunition in the southern half of the country was just too good a deal to pass up.

The call allowed Yuma’s soldiers to position in a spot with a view of Longinus’ camp, and it also confirmed that Huntley had been telling the truth.

The shot loudly echoed through Longinus’ phone and Yuma smiled satisfactorily when she heard the loud commotion of Prosper falling.

She listened silently for a few moments before the radio beside her desk crackled with a transmission from one of her two fire teams in the field.

“Target neutralised, we scored a direct hit, over.”

Yuma hung up the cream landline phone; placing it back into its small station on her desk.

Reaching beside her she took hold of the radio transmitter, she kept her plain even tone, but she couldn’t help but feel pleased with her men.

“Excellent work boys… Move up the hill, secure his stockpile, burn everything else. Over and out”

After returning the receiver to the top of the olive green military radio she sat back in her chair.

Her officer in the field responded “Roger will-co.” and she knew that yet another thing had been taken care of.

Yuma smiled and allowed herself a loud laugh. She bore her teeth and closed her eyes. Extending her arms above her head she couldn’t help but feel triumph.

‘It’s all coming together big brother!’ She thought.

She sighed satisfactorily and continued to stretch. Standing up she unbuttoned her jacket and threw it on the shoulders of her chair.

Twisting her arms she did small circles in the air and began to exercise.

She centred herself and took deep steady breaths, but just before she could actually relax, her plain black cell phone began to ring.

Keeping her eyes closed and beginning to do slow half squats she instinctually found the phone on the edge of the desk. Picking it up Yuma slid her thumb across the glass; inputting her passcode.

After unlocking it she brought it to her ear.

Other than her occasional breath she remained silent. Yuma had an obscure philosophy and personal policy regarding phones; if somebody called her then they spoke first.

No matter what or who it was that was calling her. She never said the first word in a phone conversation.

At first it irritated Pagan but he’d gotten used to it over the years.

Yuma could handle the silence; she was a master of keeping her cool when others would be squirming.

Years of dedicated work and desensitisation had conditioned Yuma Lau to become a cold, calculating, and ruthlessly efficient woman. To the point that the only people she cared about were those in her organisation, and the lengths she’d go to for her side were boundless.

A few awkward seconds passed and finally a voice came through.

“Yuma? Ms. Lau?”

“What is it Huntley.” She smirked and scoffed, “I was wondering if you were going to call, or if you’d simply buggered off.”

Huntley huffed uncomfortably.

“I held up my end, I told you where he was. I assume you killed him?”

Yuma opened her eyes and finished her twelfth squat. Standing upright she walked to her office’s open door.

Moving the phone off her cheek she called to a nearby soldier in Cantonese, “Corporal, could you bring me a bottle of water?”

The soldier nodded and immediately moved away from his post.

Walking back into her office she shook her head and returned to English. “That’s not your concern Huntley. Now what do you want?”

Huntley shuffled, and sounded flustered, “Okay, I get it; you don’t like me, but there’s no reason that your government and mine can’t –“

Yuma cut him off, “Huntley if I ever find out you set foot in Kyrat again I’ll have you killed and fed to Yang-Ye.”

Huntley furrowed his brow and gruffly asked the obvious, nervously laughing, “Who’s Yang-Ye?”

Without missing a beat Yuma responded nonchalantly, “My tiger… Now you have ten seconds to keep my attention before I hang up.”

“Alright!” he almost yelled, “Alright… here’s the pitch: my people can move some things around and see about getting more international aid to your government. In exchange we-“

“Huntley you’re going to have to do better than that. What do you really want?”

He remained quiet for a second. “My section chief as well as the South East Asia division doesn’t consider Kyrat or the Min regime a threat.”

Yuma scoffed and walked to the cork board on her wall. It was filled with photos of key Golden Path members and associates; some had been crossed out with thick red marker and a few had black question marks drawn beside them.

The various surveillance and stock photos remained mutely staring in various directions, Darpan, Amita, Sabal, Mohan, Longinus, Hurk, Willis, and a few others… They looked like deer or prey that Yuma had been stalking.

“You do though?” she replied.

Huntley’s tone turned serious, “I do…”

Yuma smiled and stared at the grainy photo of Huntley in front of her.

“Mr. Huntley…” her tone changed, her voice now sounded like she was a saleswoman, or someone in a service position, “Or, Willis? May I call you Willis?”

The agent paused uncomfortably, “what?” was all he managed.

“Well, Willis, I know you’re currently in an illegal listening station in northern India. I know this because your informants in the Royal Guard…”

Her tone changed to one darkly serious.

“…are actually my informants.” She furrowed her brow and she began to channel her hostility, “did you honestly think they’d jump ship and work for you?”

Willis moved uncomfortably and brushed the phone with his stubble, tensely listening as Yuma continued.

“My men are loyal until death, and they each told me when you approached them of their own accord.”

Huntley tried to laugh and interject to defuse Yuma’s growing displeasure, “Let’s just back up here…”

Yuma shook her head and her hair loosened in its bun, “No I don’t think so Willis.”

There was a knock at Yuma’s door and her Corporal leaned through the doorway with a perspiring canteen of water.

She turned and walked to receive the drink. Her face nodded appreciatively and she closed the door before continuing.

“We had made you as soon as you took over from the previous agent.”

Huntley cleared his throat, and attempted to jump in again.

“Can I just say something?”

Yuma raised an eye brow as she took a drink of water, “Go ahead.”

“Hurk Drubman is an American citizen… You touch him in anyway and we’ll respond officially.”

Swallowing the cold water Yuma began to laugh, “The man is a murderer, and we can prove it. We’d immediately take it to the international court in The Hague and what do you think public opinion would be?”

She sat down in her chair and continued, “The big US beating up a small developing country? Yet another American cowboy captured abroad for breaking laws?”

Bringing a hand above her head she removed her hair tie and pulled the sharp hairstick from the centre of her pink bun. The tightly coiled locks loosened and she let out a sigh of relief as she ran her fingers through and shook the hair out.

“What about extradition? We can send you several Kyrati who’ve fled to the US.”

Yuma smiled in disbelief, “We’re negotiating over this deadbeat now?”

A flustered Huntley scattered whatever was in front of him and tried to form his next sentence, he struggled uncomfortably, and for the first time in a while he’d been stumped.

Stuttering and trying to come up with anything useful he failed to keep the woman’s interest.

Sighing Yuma leaned back in her chair and brought her boots up to rest on her desk, with finality and satisfaction in her voice she ended the call, “Goodbye Willis.”

“Whoa! Wait!”

The line clicked dead and Yuma cackled as she put the phone back on her desk.

-3-

Sitting in disappointment Willis stared at his phone for a few tense moments.

He was currently in an unused office of a small listening station in northern India and cool air was blowing into his room through the small vent above the desk.

There was a knock at his door and he gruffly cleared his throat before he spoke, “Yeah?”

The door hesitantly opened and a lightly tanned agent poked his head into the room. “Huntley, sir?” he asked quietly.

Irritated Willis nodded and motioned him into the room, repeating his earlier statement, “Yeah?”

“I’ve got a director on the line asking for you? He says it’s something about Montana?”

Willis jumped out of his chair and brushed past the agent in the doorway, “Where? Which phone?”

The agent nodded and hurriedly led Willis towards his desk, “Just here sir…”

Immediately holding the receiver to his ear Willis’ voice changed to a surprisingly courteous tone; “Agent Willis Huntley here.”

A familiar voice came over the line and Willis continued with his subservient tone.

“Is the Kyrat operation pulled? Is everything scrubbed?”

“Yes sir… Every thing’s been taken care over here director.”

The voice sounded distracted as it made mumbled noises of affirmation, “Good good…”

“Well Willis we need you to take over for another assignment back stateside. We’ve got an interesting development brewing in Montana. I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”

“Vaguely sir…”

The man huffed, “Well no matter, we’re going to have you on the next plane for Washington for your debrief okay?”

Huntley became slightly flustered, “Yeah? I mean, yes of course. No problem.”

“Well the President’s doing a bit of a shuffle here and a couple of the directors are concerned Huntley… So we need you as soon as possible. You’ll have enough time in the air to get the story straight.”

Willis knew what his director meant.

The shuffling was going to be adversely affecting some elements of the CIA and by extension meant that Huntley’s current superior; the guy in charge of South East Asian operations was expecting a stellar report.

It wasn’t the first time Willis Huntley was going to have lied in a report.

But it wasn’t exactly comforting that he was going to be immediately reassigned to the interior…

“I can safely say it’s not been the same since old BO took office…” The director sighed. “Christ I miss Bush…”

Huntley chuckled. He couldn’t say that he shared his director’s nostalgia. But his place wasn’t to think about that.

Willis was to do what he was told, and what was in the interests of his country.

If that meant that a report needed to be doctored, then so be it.

“Anyway Huntley, I’ll see you when you touch down.”

“Understood, Sir”


	10. The Real Party

When the Golden Path trucks arrived in Bhutan there was no one waiting for them.

No glorious supporters.

No loyal brothers and sisters living in exile had come to greet the retreating and defeated force.

The small compound of warehouses was surrounded by a chain link fence which was sagging and had fallen over in several places.

The gate was open and had been cut open quite a long time ago, the two sides of the opening having long since come off their hinges.

Amita looked out her window in horror as Dhriti followed the truck in front of theirs.

Farther ahead in the convoy was Sabal’s truck and he had ordered his driver to pull over and stop in the middle of the compound.

As each truck entered past the chain fences they pulled to the side and stopped as well.

Sabal dismounted his truck and stood aimlessly in the centre of the deserted compound.

Each of the warehouse doors was open, some were ajar more than others but each appeared the same; dirty, run-down, and unused.

No one had been here in years…

Weeds and plants grew through the cracking and poorly poured asphalt and concrete throughout the facility.

To the side of the entrance was a small office building for monitoring and supporting the previous functions of the facility as a real warehouse and freight transport station.

Decades before the warehouses had contained freight bound for Bhutan imported from Kyrat. But since the civil war it had been left abandoned…

Ironically it was due to the Golden Path’s habit of attacking and hijacking transport trucks which caused this particular company to close the facility and abandon the region all together.

But that was before Amita’s time. That was even before Sabal’s time…

As Amita’s truck came to a stop she quickly dismounted and walked towards Sabal.

The man was running his hands through his hair, tensely oozing stress to any onlooker.

Tentatively she began to approach her partner.

“Sabal…” She lowered her voice. “Not in front of everyone… Come now, we can go into the building over there and-“

He turned to face her.

His eyes were bloodshot and he had been breathing heavily.

“And do what?” he put his hands on his hips. “Do what not in front of everyone?”

His voice started to rise. Amita looked around them uneasily.

The trucks began to empty of their passengers and the two factions within the Golden Path clearly began to form in a semi-circle to Amita’s right side, Sabal’s left.

“Hmm?” Sabal loudly continued. “Let you lie to me? Lie to us?” He pointed to the crowd, “Lie to them?”

Amita held up her hands and took a step back defensively, “W-what? Wait hold on. Lie? Lie!”

She folded her arms.

“I have never lied to them! I have never deliberately left them to death!”

Sabal furrowed his brow and shook his head.

‘Are we really doing this now?’ Amita thought.

Looking to his side and up to the sky Sabal exhaled loudly.

“After that radio broadcast?”

He pointed at Amita.

“You heard it didn’t you?”

Amita unfolded her arms and placed them on her hips, shifting her weight from her right to left foot.

“Yes I did…”

Sabal looked around and pointed at the small crowd of Golden Path.

“You all heard it didn’t you?”

There was only silence as a response.

Dhriti remained in her truck and at the wheel, looking through the open door that Amita had left.

Bhadra tried to unclip her belt and follow Amita but Dhriti held out her hand and lightly placed it on Bhadra’s.

Without a word the young girl understood what it meant.

The crowd of Golden Path members was beginning to look strange…

Sabal cleared his voice and was about to address them when someone in the crowd yelled; “You two have led us to ruin!”

There was a grumble of agreement among some, while a torrent of whispers began with the others.

Sabal stopped mid breath and took a step back from the crowd.

Amita’s eyes widened.

A few of Sabal’s avid supporters began to form in a small break away of the crowd, and very rapidly people began to eye each other with suspicion.

The noise began to grow.

Amita looked to one of her men and a few of her closest supporters broke away from the group as well.

Some people began to shove each other.

Then there was yelling.

Amita cleared her throat.

“Look! We are still alive, we have arms. We have equipment and food. We can-“

A series of derisive comments from anonymous yellers sapped Amita’s confidence and instead began to fill Sabal, Amita, their supporters and many of those in attendance with fear and unease.

Then people began to draw weapons.

Loudly some yelling turned to screams, and very soon it descended into mutiny and chaos.

Amita drew her pistol and Sabal did as well.

Their respective supporters all began aiming on anyone they didn’t recognise as either pro-Sabal or pro-Amita.

But more than either of those camps was a third group… The newly formed faction of deserters.

“You have led us to nothing but failure!” one yelled.

Another yelled; “Fuck Amita!”

And a woman screamed; “Sabal has only ever been a backwards fool!”

People began to yell over each other and those who wanted nothing to do with what was about to happen began to leave the open centre of the compound.

At first it was a quiet trickle of people taking their possessions or just the clothes on their backs and slipping out of sight and towards the gate. But then people started to run to avoid being accosted or having a finger or gun pointed at them.

“Stop them!” Sabal yelled.

The confusion and disorganisation began to grow. Some people tried clambering onto or back into their vehicles or their truck.

And it was then that Dhriti decided to finally reveal Ugyen…

“Bhadra close the door, now.”

The young girl’s face was surprised and she sat frozen at first, “W-what?”

“Just do it!” Ugyen yelled.

Bhadra complied and Ugyen immediately threw the truck into reverse.

At the same time the situation finally exploded.

No one could tell what really started it or who shot first but very quickly the three factions of the remaining Golden Path began to tear each other apart.

Years of pent up aggression and hate finally showed itself.

The fragile alliance between radicals became exposed as far more splintered than previously considered; the religious zealots began shooting at the communist members, the few fascist Golden Path members shot at the anti-statists, Amita’s loyalists shot towards Sabal’s men, and the dissenters shot at everyone.

It was a free for all that saw people who had previously fought and worked together using their rifles, pistols, axes, sticks, rocks, and even their bare hands to now kill each other.

Ugyen backed up the truck as fast as she could and began driving through the gate in reverse.

The truck was pinging with the sounds of small arms fire and Bhadra was screaming loudly, “What’s going on! What’s going on!”

But despite the noise Ugyen tried to stay focused and with her left hand she pressed Bhadra’s head down in an effort to make her stay in cover.

“Just stay low Bhadra!”

She grunted and continued to drive as best she could until she was back on the road.

Twisting the wheel as fast as she could the truck skidded across the old and cracked asphalt as it turned around.

“Hang on Bhadra!”

Ugyen began to drive back the way that they had come from as the compound of warehouses quickly descended into hell.

“Shoot anyone that tries to take another truck!” Sabal yelled. “And kill Amita!” he added.

Amita and her loyalists had sprinted out of the centre of the compound and were now taking cover in the small office building.

Most of the people who had been armed were not combat ready.

Meaning they had only the magazine that was in their weapon at the time.

The rest of the Golden Paths’ remaining munitions and firepower were in crates in the back of the trucks and very quickly everyone began to realise this…

The shooting which at first was a chaotic storm of noise had now died down to sparring shots and men were instead locked in tense standoffs, aiming guns at each other, not knowing if they were loaded or not. While those who’d been shot either writhed around in pain or lay mute on the pavement.

Sabal’s men had actually been whittled down to just a handful of supporters and they were now being surrounded by many more dissenters.

Amita and her four loyalists watched from the windows of the office building.

She panted and watched unblinkingly as the dissenters began circling Sabal.

Tapping the shoulder of one of her female followers she spoke quietly, “Let them tear him apart, and then we can hose them down in bullets.”

The female Golden Path member furrowed her brow and detached her magazine from her AK.

Looking into the box she shook her head. “I… I don’t have enough…”

Two of her male followers had pistols and they nodded in agreement.

The last supporter, another female, didn’t even have a firearm and was instead holding a combat knife in her hands.

Amita’s eyes widened.

“We need to leave here… now…”

Outside Sabal leveled his pistold at the man closest to him.

“You bastards… you have fucked us all!” he said.

Then a voice loudly responded; “No, that was your doing!”

A tanned, short haired, Kyrati shook his head. He was wearing a dirty muscle shirt and workpants stained with black engine grease.

“You and that foolish woman…”

He was obviously the informal ringleader of the dissenters as the men all grunted in agreement and followed his words and movement with their eyes carefully.

“You should have stayed burning offerings at Mohan’s grave Sabal…”

There was another chorus of approval and Sabal continued backing up until he and his men were now touching.

Snorting his nostrils in defiance Sabal shook his head and yelled back, “Fuck you! Without me you all would have been tortured to death! Without me you-“

The mechanic ring leader’s voice boomed over Sabal’s. “Without _you_ we might all still have had peaceful lives!”

The men all agreed, “Yeah!”

“He’s right”

“Fuck you Sabal!”

The mechanic bared his teeth and let out a growl, “You should have stayed with Mohan’s bones, and Amita should have known her place!”

His voice climbed to address the hiding woman.

Sabal’s voice was calm and slow; “You step any closer… and I will shoot you brother.”

But the mechanic chuckled.

“I don’t doubt that Sabal. But it’ll take more than that to kill me…”

While the dissenters following the mechanic each had either knives or pistols or a rifle if they were lucky, the mechanic was using a thick cast iron wrench as his weapon. Then business end of it was already dripping with blood and viscera from the earlier confusion and brawling.

After a tense few seconds Sabal smirked and pulled his trigger.

Instead of an explosion the pistol made a dry *click*.

Sabal’s face dropped in surprise when there was no shot and everyone tensed at the sound of the pistol. Sabal had forgotten to cock the weapon… As a result there wasn’t a bullet in the chamber.

The mechanic threw off his surprise and immediately lunged forwards with his weapon held aloft.

Sabal tried to bring back the slide on his pistol and behind him his supporters shot at their respective targets while the dissenters responded with their own bullets.

The thick wrench collided with Sabal’s lower jaw and he stumbled backwards, dropping his gun, and falling to the ground.

The mechanic quickly descended after him.

The few loyalists Sabal had left had now been shot or were engaged in melee.

But no matter what, for Sabal it was now over; the Mechanic’s men were far more dedicated than his…

Reeling from the hit to his jaw Sabal tried to make noise but instead he involuntarily spat out some blood and a few teeth.

The sound of the strike echoed out strangely.

Sabal was untouchable…

Before this there were those who looked upon him as blessed by Kyra…

Many thought that Sabal’s restoration of the Tarun Matara had been led by divine providence.

But the crack across his face brought a horrible realisation home: Sabal was but a man.

And all men, even the holy, die.

The Mechanic’s surprise at having actually struck Sabal gravely didn’t stop his body from continuing.

Bringing his left hand to wrap around his right, the Mechanic now held the wrench with both hands and began to yell as he cocked back another swing.

Sabal’s expression was one of disbelief.

His face didn’t show pain, but instead absolute bewilderment.

The world around him changed in a single action.

As he fell to the ground his eyes looked around in a daze before they focused enough that he could see again.

Above him the Mechanic’s shadow covered him and though Sabal was in horrible pain he numbly registered what was about to happen next.

Like a torrent Sabal’s arms moved on their own and he brought both his hands upwards in a futile effort to shield his face.

Sabal’s broken jaw moved, despite the pain and the fractures through the bone, and he croaked out his last words, “No brother…”

It was quiet. It wasn’t a scream, and it wasn’t a whimper.

It was merely the involuntary and subconscious thoughts of a man betrayed.

The sentimentality of the moment was cut short by the loud *crack* of the wrench against his skull.

Sabal’s hands dropped to his sides limply and his body relaxed as he died.

Bringing the weapon back above his head the Mechanic readied another blow, Sabal however was already gone.

-1-

From where she was Amita’s eyes shot open and she held her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream as the Mechanic brought down yet another hit.

Behind her the four loyalists were trying to get themselves a way out of the building.

“This way!” one whispered.

“We need to go now! Out the back of the building Amita!” Another implored.

One of the men had smashed through a window and hastily they began to file one after the other out the small opening and over the broken glass.

“Find Amita!” The Mechanic yelled. “Make sure no one else steals a truck!”

A few men yelled in agreement, and some even responded with “Yes boss.”

Amita and her four surviving supporters started to make a break for the fence when one of the others spotted them, “There! Over there! By the gate!”

The man yelled and raised his AK. He fired a few rounds automatically but it stopped and he looked at his weapon in disbelief, he’d run dry.

Amita sprinted towards him and tackled him. Holding his arms down, she leaned her body away from his and called to one of her men.

“Shoot him!” She cried.

Following closely behind her one of her men armed with a pistol nodded. He took aim quickly and fired without hesitation into the man’s face.

Taking hold of the AK from the dead man’s hands Amita removed the empty magazine and pulled a loaded one from an open chest pouch.

Cocking the weapon she aimed it towards the Mechanic’s men and they entered into another standoff.

“Stay the fuck there!” She screamed. “Don’t you fucking move!”

The Mechanic laughed as he and his men slowly continued to walk towards Amita and hers.

“Really, Amita? You’re good at bossing others around but when it comes to getting your own hands dirty.”

He chuckled, “It remains to be seen…”

Wordlessly she pulled the trigger and hit the Mechanic in the abdomen.

“Gah! Oh!” He yelled, clutching his stomach he dropped his weapon and fell to the side.

One of his men then shot Amita, who was in turn shot by one of Amita’s men, who was then shot…

Amita groaned loudly as she stumbled to a knee from the injury.

One of the Mechanic’s men aimed his weapon and eyed her carefully.

Taking a pained breath Amita attempted to bring her rifle up to fire again and the Mechanic’s man pre-emptively fired a burst from his submachinegun to stop her.

Amita recoiled from each of the hits, and when a bullet passed through her throat her eyes looked off and failed to focus as she fell backwards limply; her expression blank.

-2-

There was a chorus of uncoordinated fire echoing throughout the small valley for a few more minutes before it finally became quiet.

The Golden Path had succeeded in finally tearing itself apart…

And by the end of the carnage Sabal, Amita, their closest supporters, and almost every other able bodied Golden Path member were dead, killed by their own comrades, or deserting, running on foot away in any direction they could.

-3-

Making their way back down the rocky road from Bhutan to Kyrat, Ugyen was doing her best to console Bhadra, but the young girl was crying hysterically.

“They! T-they’re… d-dead! It’s… it’s… I can’t…” she began to choke up on her cries and her need for air grew.

Ugyen was doing her best to navigate the poorly deteriorated road, but her previous fast driving moves had strained and bent aspects of the trucks’ mechanics that just weren’t meant to be used that way.

The engine and wheels being shot at didn’t help either…

“Look Bhadra it’ll be okay, do you understand? I won’t let anything happen…”

“W-who even are you!?” She cried, “We need to go back! We have to go back!”

She grabbed hold of Ugyen’s arm and the sudden jerking made Ugyen move the wheel a few degrees.

“Stop it Bhadra!” Ugyen yelled back.

She tried to steady herself and keep in mind that Bhadra was still a child. Despite what she’d seen Ugyen couldn’t just yell at her like she was a fellow soldier.

Her voice quieted and she calmed herself as she continued talking, “We can’t go back… they, they were finished… and now?”

Ugyen did her best to keep an even tone, but even she was emotionally strained from what had just happened.

Ugyen really didn’t want to imply what she was about to. But, the world was not a perfect place, and she was more than sure of what would have happened if they stayed.

“Think about it Bhadra: a little girl, amongst a bunch of desperate, starving, and turncoat men… with guns?”

Ugyen shook her head.

“No way…”

She tried looking at Bhadra every now and then but she kept her eyes on the road.

“It was over for them and the Golden Path. And if you were there…”

Ugyen didn’t want to think about what could have happened if she wasn’t there for Bhadra.

Meekly Bhadra stopped her sobs and voiced a small protest, “Don’t think I can’t defend myself.”

Tensing and flexing her hands Ugyen avoided the statement.

Bhadra quietly sobbed as she un-clipped her belt, when she was free of the restraint she moved to the side of the truck’s cabin, as far away from Ugyen as she could, given their current circumstances.

“So… So I was right?” she croaked out quietly.

“Yes…” Ugyen exhaled loudly. “You were right…”

Bhadra shook slightly and looked at her hands.

“S-so… so…” she tried to speak. “Is your name even Dhriti?”

Ugyen shook her head, “No.”

Bhadra made a fake laugh, before sniffing and rubbing her eyes.

“What now?”

The passenger window had been shot through and the glass had exploded out. Fragments were on the floor of the cabin and Bhadra wiped the few on the seat off with the sleeve of her hoodie.

The wind passing the truck now came in through the open window and dried Bhadra’s tears as she looked out at the rocky side of the pass.

Ugyen cleared her throat and tried her best to sound reassuring, “My name is Ugyen Khadka. I’m an enlisted member of the Royal Guard…” She looked at Bhadra briefly, “My mission was to infiltrate the Golden Path and to get you out of their custody.”

Bhadra’s mouth opened slightly as she watched Ugyen uneasily.

“I made sure that you were safe… I ensured that you remained alive and I did my best to try and keep you from Amita…”

The truck groaned and began slowing.

“Now… My job is to get you back to Kyrat and into-“

“Into Pagan’s hands.” Bhadra finished.

Ugyen furrowed her brow.

“Not literally.”

Bhadra scoffed and wiped her nose, “Whatever. The point is they’re going to kill me…”

“What?” Ugyen shook her head, “What makes you think that? Sabal and Amita lied to you. That’s all they ever did to everyone, lies, and bullshit… and manipulation.”

Bhadra continued to shake her head, “Come on… I know what people think I am…”

Ugyen raised an eyebrow.

“It’s too politically dangerous for me to live…”

Bhadra looked away from her window and at Ugyen.

“They’re going to get rid of me because I represent a challenge to the regime…”

Her voice sounded like she had rehearsed the line a hundred times in her head, it felt disingenuous. It was a belief she had been told and had internalised for so long that it wasn’t even ‘true’ anymore… it was merely a statement.

Ugyen blinked in surprise and disbelief. “How did-“ she began to ask.

Without missing a beat Bhadra interrupted, “Sabal told me… He explained what it would mean should I continue to live and should Pagan continue to be King.”

“The victory could only be assured if the king was killed…”

She shook her head, “Even if I were to run away I would never be anything but the Tarun Matara!”

She began crying again, “Sabal told me and told me that it was my destiny, and Amita told me it was my destiny to be a warrior… To be an example for all the women of Kyrat to be inspired by…”

He tears flowed and her voice climbed in pitch as she moved in frustration, she brought both her fists down on the dashboard as she exclaimed; “No one has ever asked me what I wanted!”

As soon as it was out Ugyen reactively opened her mouth and spoke in a low and calm voice. “What _is it_ you want?”

Bhadra looked up and laughed. Though she was crying she couldn’t help but laugh nervously as she tried to get her words out.

She stuttered “I… I don’t know…”

Bhadra looked out the front window.

“I have… no idea…” she whispered.

A moment of silence passed and Bhadra looked back at Ugyen.

“Take away all the propaganda, all of the lies… Please… Did the Golden … did they have anything right at all?”

Ugyen was quiet as she focused on the driving but she tried to honestly mull over the question.

“W… what do you mean?” she finally responded.

Bhadra looked up and rolled her eyes, “Obviously the other half of the country has been suffering as much as mine…”

She adjusted in her seat. “Am I going to be forced into a gulag or… or a re-education camp and lied to more?”

She laughed in disbelief, “Before I’m shot of course…”

Ugyen furrowed her brow and spoke in a serious tone.

“Bhadra… So long as I am alive. I swear to you I will not let anyone hurt you.”

She took her eyes off the road and locked with Bhadra’s.

Ugyen raised her eyebrows and nodded once, “Okay?”

Nonverbally she seemed to add; ‘I mean it.’

Bhadra looked at her and her tensed eyes twitched as fresh tears began to form.

“I… I don’t know what to believe anymore… You’re…” She laughed loudly, “You’re a professional liar!”

Her voice quieted and she became incredibly low.

“They all have been… Sabal… Amita… Even King Min on that radio… How much of that was absolute bullshit?”

Ugyen didn’t know what to say now.

None of Yuma’s training had prepared her for this.

Bhadra was convinced that in all directions she’d be heading to the gallows…

She had nothing now.

No friends, no comrades, no family.

She was alone, and didn’t even know herself anymore.

Ugyen furrowed her brow. Her chest was heavy and a few moments of silent driving passed before she began to speak.

She didn’t know why she felt compelled to talk but, her lips moved and she felt her heart begin to pour out.

“I… I had a brother. He was younger than me.” She began.

She smiled but immediately stopped herself, “My family owned a tea plantation, many years ago… It was a small farm, but we were able to have a few workers.”

“And I remember,” She moved in her seat and wiped some sweat off her brow, “I remember when my brother ran away from home to join the Golden Path and Mohan Ghale…”

She shook her head. “I remember it so clearly… but… What I don’t remember is my brother’s build up to it…”

Ugyen began to think out loud as she continued her story.

“You’d think before someone’s about to do something drastic, something… something as big as that, that there’d be signs… But...”

She laughed half-heartedly, “But there wasn’t…”

“He just up and left one day…”

She nodded; the memories and her words were lined up.

“When I woke up I felt off, so I checked his room, and he’d made his bed like usual, some books were missing, but… It looked normal.”

She paused and Bhadra furrowed her brow.

“I went downstairs and… there was my mother, and there was my father and they… they were holding something and they just said: He’s gone.”

Ugyen scoffed, “It was like someone had died and they repeated; ‘he’s gone’. And then it finally sunk in…”

“A few days later… some Golden Path members showed up to our farm.”

She looked towards Bhadra, “This was back when they actually had enough numbers and support that they could actively patrol areas of the lowlands…”

Ugyen cleared her throat and continued, “Anyway these… blue and yellow uniformed men showed up and…”

She shook her head numbly, “They just shot my father…”

“I don’t know why…”

“I’ve replayed it over and over in my head since… even though it’s been years… And I still don’t know why they did it. My mother and I cried over his body and I stayed by it for hours until…”

She quieted.

“I can’t remember anymore…”

There were a few seconds of silence before Ugyen’s voice picked back up.

“Was it because he paid taxes in goods to the royals? So he was technically ‘feeding’ the royal army in a small way?”

She sniffed, “Was it because he wasn’t religious enough? That he hadn’t gone to a temple or a shrine since his wedding?”

“Did my brother tell them that we had food saved up for winter? Or that we had some money tucked away? I… I just don’t know.”

She looked at Bhadra, “The point is… there isn’t a reason.”

“Those men showed up to do, what those kinds of men do.”

Ugyen took a breath.

“Do the royals have those kinds of people too? Yeah. I’m sure there are.”

Her voice cracked, “Do we sometimes get the wrong people? Yes… We do…”

“Have there been people on both sides trying to do what was right?”

Ugyen’s lips quivered as she nodded and held back a sob, “Have innocents been caught in the crossfire?”

She nodded and struggled to finish her next sentence, “Y-yes… But what makes this war any different from any other?”

Bhadra’s eyes were wide and her face was frozen as she quietly watched Ugyen speak.

“Are there lies out there Bhadra? Yeah, there are… a lot of them.”

“But I like to think… I want to believe that maybe my side… maybe we have the potential to do something right. Pagan isn’t perfect… No one is…”

She paused and her hands tightened their grip on the wheel.

“But I refuse to believe that they’re going to ruin the potential to have a good start, a fresh opportunity at ruling this country by killing a little girl…”

Bhadra nodded.

“Okay?”

Ugyen took a breath and shook her head, “I’m not going to let that happen alright?”

Bhadra tearfully nodded and wiped her eyes.

“I swear I will not let anything happen to you okay?”

Bhadra looked down at her lap and hands.

She didn’t want to look at Ugyen… No one she ever met in the Golden Path had ever said what Ugyen had just said to her.

She kept her eyes closed because she didn’t want to see any trace of deceit on Ugyen’s face.

Bhadra wanted to believe her.

She really did.

After a long, quiet, time, she made up her mind.

And the young lady decided, if only for the rest of their journey, she’d choose to believe Ugyen…

Other than the occasional straining sound of the trucks’ engine the rest of their drive was relatively quiet and uneventful.


End file.
